Dale and Elosie
by sokkarocks
Summary: Dale/ OC story. On the day of the PTA meeting, Dale meets a strange girl from Havalock. Posh, funny and strange- what happens next changes his life forever. Will have an actual story line, including episodes and moments completely new.
1. Chapter 1

Yeah... Diet's important. Um… What you eat…" He looked at Mrs Budgen. "What you drink…. And, um… sleep- sleep's important too… Um… You've just got to make a plan and stick to it." He stared into the crowd; none of them seemed particularly interested.

He didn't know what to say- well, he _knew _everything he wanted to say, but he didn't know _how to say it. _He'd told Byrne that he didn't want to do a talk, and now what was he doing? Mortifying.

Finally, I came to an end. After a particularly long pause, Mr Byrne stood up and asked if there was any questions from the audience.

Kenzie spoke up, a smirk on her face. Dale could almost feel his cheeks burning already.

"The night before a big race, can you…" She elaborated. Dale's eyes widened- he never thought she'd ask that! And the answer was yes, you could do that the night before a big race. He'd done it with a number of girls the night before, and it hadn't effected his performance. He hoped. And he'd never done it before a big race- there was too much pressure to even think about_ that. _

But he didn't say any of these thoughts, and even if he had, he wouldn't have been heard. At Kenzie's comments, the whole hall went into uproar- both Havolock and Waterloo road. It was the first thing they'd done together without being forced to all day.

After it had all died down, Mr Byrne stood up and led the applause- although Dale couldn't think why; it had been awful. He hated talking in front of people- probably one of the reasons why he spent so much time on a bike. People stood up and sat back down whilst he- finally- took his seat. He ran his hands through his hair, blowing air out through his mouth. It was over- and the relief was massive- like a balloon that had been popped.

"And let's hope that this time next week, we have a champion in our ranks."

Next week the trial. The thing he'd prepared months for, as soon as he'd hear there was a space on that team. That team was a gateway to everything else Dale wanted- to being a professional rider, to being an Olympic athlete, and to all the sponsorship that came with it. Oh yes, he'd make sure he made the team- or he'd die trying,

"Thank you Dale," the woman said, snapping him out of his day dream of Olympic stadiums and the sunny landscape of France. "Ad thank you all for coming. So, if the parents would like to stay behind, perhaps we can all try and draw some final conclusions from the forum."

They all filed out.

Dale was one of the last to leave, as he wanted to avoid the whole crowd of people who might tease him about his horrible presentation- or worse, laugh at him. Dale looked around. The only people that were left in the hall were the parents, a group of Waterloo Road kids from the year below him, and a pair from Havlock.

D*+ale recognised one of the girls vaguely- she had been in his science class, but he hadn't paid much attention to her, or the science class. He had more on his mind than fusion- and more interesting things at that.

Heaving his rucksack over his shoulder, he made his way out. The waterloo road and one of the Havolock girls had left, leaving only one left. She seemed to be rummaging through her bag- maybe sorting it? Dale didn't care. While he didn't really care about the merger, he wasn't fond of Havolock, either. Really, he just had too many things on his mind to worry about a school that he'd only been at a few weeks.

In the corridor, he felt someone tap him on his back.

He whipped around, startled. It was the Havalock girl, the one from the science class. She was smiling at him- she didn't seem to think that there was anything wrong with startling him. Either that, or she hadn't noticed. His heart was thundering in his chest.

Her grin was big; bashful. It spread throughout her entire face, from her cheeks to her eyes. Dale didn't think he'd seen a smile like it. When she noticed him glaring at her, the smile faded.

"Um… sorry. I… I didn't mean to startle you." She was posh, with a thick accent that made him think of the Christmas Queen's speeches his Aunt used to make him watch.

Dale raised an eyebrow.

"Then what did you want?"

The girl ran a hand through her hair, before her face broke into a smile again. Dale continued to stare- the girl seemed nuts. She wore a green Havolock blazer, tight black trousers and shiny black loafers. Her shirt was tucked into her trousers, and she had wavy brunette hair that went just to her chest.

"I just wanted to say that I liked your presentation. It was very interesting." The girl woke Dale out of his super, so it took him a few moments to process her words.

"Are you kidding me? It was terrible."

"No!" The girl replied quickly, almost as soon as he'd finished. "No…" Some girls barged past them, chatting about some fit guy from the voice and how he better win and how that other contestant kept obviously flirting with him. They looked at Dale and the girl and giggled.

Dale didn't know who they were laughing at- him or the girl. Really, he didn't care. He wanted this conversation to be other so he could get ready for training- every second counted. It was only a few minutes until the end of the day, so he was edgy. But when they'd finally past and their conversation could no longer be heard, the girl started to talk again. She'd stopped smiling. "No, your presentation was interesting- especially the stuff about diets and stuff."

Dale eyed her from the corner of his eye.

"Honest. I've read some stuff about all that. Athletes diets and stuff. High protein, for growth and repair. Not many carbohydrates either, I suppose. They're just quick energy and make you pile on the pounds."

Again, Dale eyed the girl. Although he still wanted to leave, he was mildly interested. And, alright, he was curious. It wasn't every day you came across someone who was interested in athlete stuff like diet. Even Lennie wasn't that interested offering him sugary cereal bars.

Of course, it was hard to talk about food, seeming as he wasn't eating it. He knew it was bad, bad because of what it was doing to his body, bad because of the headaches it was giving him, but it was good good good when the weight came off and his times became faster and faster.

Because that was the only thing that mattered.

He should be practising now, but somehow, he was still standing here, with the girl.

"You're interested into diets, then? PE science and stuff?"

"Well, yeah…" the girl frowned. "But…. Promise you won't laugh. Most people laugh."

Dale looked at the girl. Laugh about what?

"I promise I won't laugh."

The girl looked up and smiled at him, twisting the strap of her satchel. The smile wasn't like the one she'd given him before, this one was smaller; this one seemed more genuine. She walked over to one of the windows and sat on it, plonking her bag beside her.

Dale joined her.

"Physics. It's the best really. How things work…" She said, leaning back against the window sill. The sunlight made her dark locks shine, casting shadows onto the paint work?"

"So, the lesson today, then. You actually enjoyed it?" Dale asked. The girl didn't seem to be joking, but physics, really? It was quite possibly the most boring thing known to man- actually, scratch that, thought Dale. Maths or English were the worst subjects- at least in physics, things sometimes exploded.

"Yeah. The lesson here are way more interesting than Havalock." She looked at him, squinting in the sunlight. Then she quickly changed the subject. "Do things always explode here?"

Dale laughed. She did too.

"Sometimes. But way worse things have happened." He said.

"Like what?" She asked.

"One we set up a bike bank, you know, to impress parents. I got roped in; Mr Fitzgerald wanted me to lead it, seeming as I cycle… and then…" Suddenly he was leaping into the story of the bike bank, of how Scott had taken the bikes apart and how he'd ended up lying flat on his face, tasting gravel.

He made gestures of how they'd all landed on the floor, laughing as he remembered the expressions on everyone's faces, especially Fitzgerald's, when all the bikes had fallen over- he'd been angry then, but it was funny now.

The girl was laughing too, and they got talking about the merger. The girl surprised Dale. She sounded posh, but she laughed and cracked jokes like anyone else. And she was nice. Nicer than he'd expected, nicer than most strangers he randomly started to talk to- especially someone from the 'enemy side.'

"I thought you'd be horrible." He said, without thinking. The girl shot him a look. Oh no! That had come out wrong!

"No, that came out wrong!" The girl burst out in a fit of giggles, and so did he. "I mean, coming from Havalock. You're supposed to be the enemy."

"Well," she spoke, her voice calm. "That's where you're wrong. I'll have you know I only get my black cape and mask out on the weekends. It's much to tiring to terrorise Greenock on the weekdays. You know, with it being a school night."

Dale smiled. She did the same.

Then the bell went, starting them.

"Shit! What's the time?" She shouted, grabbing his wrist and checking the time on the watch. "Shit! I've got to get to the bus!" She grabbed her bag and dropped off the window, before turning round. "It was nice talking to you, Dale. I meant it- good presentation."

She turned, running down the corridor.

"Wait!" He shouted, jumping down off the window. "What's your name?"

Further down the corridor, the girl turned round.

"Name's Eloise- call me El. Eloise makes me sound like a middle aged woman who knits her own clothing."

With that she turned, her brown her flying behind her.

"Bye," Dale murmured, a faint smile still on his lips.

**Hello! Thank you for talking the time to read this story. I had this idea when I was watching series 10, and it wouldn't go away; so I just had to write it. This story will have a proper story line, not only for Dale but for El too, so I hope that you'll stick around to read it! I'll be running the story beyond the end of series 10, because I think the show was cut way too short and that the characters had way more to tell. **

**I'll update usually once a week. **

**If you want to talk to me about anything in the story (E.g. themes, if all the characters are in character, storyline) please don't hesitate to message me. I'd be very happy to answer any of your messages. (Tumblr Loric101) **

**By the way, what do you guys think of El? I hope you like her!**

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Everything had been going so well, thought Dale. The weight had been coming off, his times were becoming quicker each time he practised, and finally- finally- he'd gotten the result that he'd wanted.

He'd made it onto the team- the goal that he'd worked so hard and sacrificed so much for. And now that had been ripped away from him. Everything that he'd been working towards for so long- gone.

Now he was standing on some scales in a doctor's office, as he weighed him, jotting down the measurements on his clipboard. His name was Doctor Miles, PhD, and was the doctor that had been given to him the day after the race, when Maggie had driven him to the doctors.

He'd been deemed underweight and unhealthy immediately, with a BMI lower than what was deemed healthy for his height. Dale thought that was a load of rubbish- if he was so unhealthy, why had he just won a bike trail? His times had getting better; he was the fittest he'd even been, on the top of his game.

He'd said all this and more to Maggie, but the woman was having none of it. As far as she was concerned, Dale was hurting himself, and it was her duty, either as a carer or a bloody patron saint, to help him get better.

That meant a new diet plan, one full of fatty, high calorie foods, undoing all of his precious work. They were still counting calories, but this time, instead of waking up to see the pounds falling off, Dale found that they were piling on. He hated it. Hated it.

But he'd do all of it if it meant that he could cycle again. That was his life, and he'd do anything to regain it- including eating.

"Uh huh," the doctor muttered, mentioning for Dale to get of the scales. "Excellent." He took a seat after jotting down something else on his pad. What the hell was he writing? Thought Dale; more than just a weight.

"Going in the right direction, then?" Maggie asked, as Dale took his seat beside her.

"Well, a gain of two pounds- excellent progress." The doctor said, making it sound like some long journey that Dale was embarking on. It didn't sound like progress to him, it sounded like regression. "Very good progress."

And know it was time for the all- important question- could he cycle again. Surely a weight gain like that, whilst not enough to get him up to his target weight, was enough to show the doctors and psychologists that he was serious and was going to get the weight back on- so they'd let him cycle again.

"So does that mean I can cycle again?" He asked, eagerly.

The doctor gave him a look of surprise, as if he couldn't believe Dale was being so stupid.

"Absolutely not. When your psychologist thinks you're ready, and you're not just cycling to burn calories, then we're reassess." The man saw Dale's crestfallen face. "Look, I know it's hard. Patience is key in dealing with eating disorders."

The doctor didn't understand- Dale needed to cycle. He had to make the doctor understand.

"I don't want to burn calories though. I want to cycle; it's what I do." He tried.

But the doctor didn't listen. "Well, I understand," the man started. How could the doctor possibly understand? Thought Dale. The man, with his flabby stomach bulging over his trousers, didn't look like he'd cycled more than the distance from his house to the corner shop in his life. How did he understand Dale's want- no, not his want- his need to bike?

"But I'm afraid the answer's still a no. For the time being."

Dale was crestfallen- his hopes of cycling lay in tatters.

Maggie tried to comfort him. "You're doing well." Dale stared at his trousers. "Stick to the eating plan, you're see-"

All of a sudden, Dale's mind exploded into anger. What did she know? Nothing, and yet she was the whole reason he was here! If Maggie hadn't stuck her nose in, he'd be on the team, training, and on his way to the Olympics. And now, thanks to her, look where he was!

"What?" He stared at the doctor. "I'll see what?" He looked at Maggie and the doctor for answers. He didn't get any- instead, all he got were pitying looks. Angrier than ever, he stood up. "That I'll be in the 2016 Olympics? Is that what I'll see?"

Silence.

None of them had any answers for him.

"No? What, then? Oh, yeah, nothing. I'll do nothing! I'll sit around, talking to people about NOTHING!" He stormed out, leaving the people who said nothing behind.

Three hours later, Dale sat in a science class. Mr D'Olivera was taking it, and, from what Dale had been able to pick up, the lesson was about Fractional Distillation and the different points different gases condensed. Useless. When would Dale need to know about any of this?

He was going to be a cyclist- no, correction, he had been going to be a cyclist. Now he was going to be a cyclist. Now he was going to do nothing.

Really, though, Dale wasn't listening to a thing the science teacher had to say. He hadn't listened in form, either, and the teacher had had to ask his twice. To be honest, Dale had better things to concentrate on than how they got petrol and jet fuel. His dreams lay in tatters.

"-different hydrocarbons have different strength bonds-"Mr D'Olivera droned on.

The Havalock lot were meant to be in today, too. Out of the corner of his mind, but they weren't here yet- something about there being a special assembly on road safety, or something like that, meaning that they were going to be late for the lesson; much to Mr D'Olivera's annoyance.

Dale remembered something about Havalock students having their science lessons at Waterloo Road whilst their science block was being fixed- or was that drained? He'd heard it had been flooded. Anyway, the announcement that Havalock would be at the school most days went down as well as a tonne of bricks.

Time passed by slowly, with Mr D'Olivera droning on and with Dale mourning his cycling dreams. Then the classroom's door burst open, and a wave of talk, green blazers and a draft walked into the room.

The head teacher of Havalock wasn't far behind them.

"Alright everyone," he shouted over Mr D'Olivera's ramble of electrolysis, "find a space and sit down. Quickly, everybody!"

Mr D'Olivera was obviously annoyed with all the noise interrupting his lesson, when he hadn't even gotten a sorry from Havalock's head teacher- Dale didn't know his name- for being late. However, all the noise wasn't enough to rose Dale from his stupor. Not talk, not the scraping off chairs. He was oblivious to it all.

"Can I sit here?" She had to repeat the question twice before he heard it.

Looking up, Dale saw the girl from when the PTA had come in- El. She looked the same as she had before, down from the hair to the bag; the only difference that Dale could see was that she now had a bruise forming on her right cheek.

She gestured to the chair by Dale.

"Uh, sure. If you want." He mumbled.

Quickly, El pulled out the chair and sat in it, before plonking her bag onto the table. From the sound it made, it was heavy. She took out her pencil case, as well as a book that looked like it was to do with science- a NewScientist book, if he'd seen right. Out of the corner of his mind, Dale remembered that El liked physics.

But the memory of the last time they'd met made him remember his hopes for his bicycle trial- and that made him sad. Dale drifted into gloomy thoughts again, not talking to the girl.

That's not to say she didn't try, though. Asking question after question, El tried to strike up conversation.

"Any good at physics?"

"How've you been?" No answer, to which the girl replied: "That good, huh?"

"The road safety advert showed people dying in alarming detail. I mean, by video ten, about the boy that smashed his mum's head in because he wasn't wearing a seatbelt, we were all defiantly ready to wear a seatbelt- they didn't need to show us five more."

None of them made Dale say anything, apart from one. "Oh, I forgot to ask. How did your trail go? Did you get onto the team, after all?" At this, he looked at her, gave her a glare, and then proceeded to ignore her for the rest of the lesson.

He knew it wasn't El's fault, but he was just so angry. Angry at who, he didn't know. Angry at Maggie, because if she hadn't stepped in, he'd been on the team and on his way to the Olympics right now. Angry at Lennie, because if he hadn't told Maggie about him not eating, Maggie would have never had stepped in. And, yes, he was angry at El- she signified the time when he had hoped that his dreams would come true. Seeing her now as like rubbing salt onto a wound- an open, gaping wound.

Finally, he was angry at himself. So angry, so fucking angry. If he hadn't tried to lose the weight, if he'd just trained harder, he might be on the team. Dale didn't know how he could have pushed himself harder, but he should of. Because that's what winners did, wasn't it? They pushed themselves as much as they could. Dale knew he wasn't a winner.

He was a loser.

After ignoring her, El eventually stopped trying to talk. Mr D'Olivera passed round a worksheet that Dale didn't even try to do- there was no practical today. There never was in Mr D'Olivera's lessons.

El quickly scribbled down the answers, knowing them even though she'd missed half the lesson. Dale tapped the side of his worksheet with his pen, letting his thoughts drift.

He was taken out of these thoughts by a rustling sound. El had finished her worksheet and was now reading her book. Dale looked around. No one else had finished. She continued to read her book, until Mr D'Olivera noticed the flipping of pages and the fact that neither of them were working.

He stormed over, wearing a look like thunder.

"What on Earth are you doing?" He hissed.

El looked up. "Reading a book," she said, before returning to it.

This made the science teacher frown even more. "I can see that, but this is not a reading class, this is a science class, and you have a worksheet."

El pointed to her finished worksheet. "Done it. Reading to fill the time." She looked up at Mr D'Olivera. "Is that okay? Or should I talk? Jump on tables?"

Mr D'Olivera looked like he was going to shout at her, when he was stopped.

"I'll take it from here, Mr D'Olivera. Just concentrate on trying to control your students," Havalock's head teacher said, making it obvious that he thought that was going to be hard task. Dale hated him instantly.

Mr D'Olivera scowled, but with Havalock's head being the most senior teacher, he walked away.

"Just concentrate on your work, Miss Avington."

El raised her hand and smiled as he walked away. "I have!" She muttered.

Dale had watched the exchange like a tennis match. Only now did he realise something. As he'd watched El talk to the teachers, he'd smiled.

He hadn't done that for a week.

Now, he smiled at El. He pointed at her worksheet.

"You're pretty good at this stuff, aren't you?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I am."

Dale walked into the canteen. His foot was killing him where he'd hit it into a bike in a fit of frustration. Maggie watched him nervously from the corner of her eye, but he ignored her. She obviously thought he was going to ditch lunch.

Well, Dale would show her.

He joined the back of the lunch queue and made his way to the front. A tired looking dinner lady asked him what he wanted, so he told her that a special meal had been prepared for him. That in itself was another reason to hate his new diet. He had to have special meals. Even the freedom to choose his own food had been taken away from him. Not that he could eat any of it, anyway. Every bite felt guilty, like he was betraying himself.

After waiting for what seemed like eternity, Dale got his meal and started to look for a place to sit. There weren't many options. Most of the tables were taken up with crowds he either didn't know or like, Havalock included. Some of them had chosen to eat at Waterloo Road before going back to their base.

He could see Lennie and his usual group of friends, but he didn't want to sit next to them. He was still angry at Lennie and could sense that the boy wasn't exactly happy with Dale, either. It was only some weed though… who knew Lennie was so uptight?

Finally, he saw a nearly empty table. The only person to sit there was El, but there were wrappers and other rubbish on the table, so Dale guessed other people had been sitting there. Dale shrugged; it was his best option of sitting down before his food went cold.

He walked over.

"Can I sit here?" He asked.

El's eyes shot up from her book. "Dale!" She took in what he had said and gestured around the table. "Be my guest."

Dale sat down. "How come you're by yourself? Don't you have any friends?"

That came out wrong, but if El noticed, she didn't care. She put down her book and took something out of the silver lunchbox in front of her: a chocolate bar. Beside her, she had a mug of hat looked like tea with a straw sticking out of it. After taking a big bite, she answered. "Daisy's ill. Stomach bug, I think," she frowned. "Or at least that's what it sounded like on the phone this morning. I'm rather offended that she didn't come in, actually. Havalock students need all the help they can get in enemy territory."

She smiled. "Kidding."

They fell into a silence, after that. Dale picked at his food. He had chicken, vegetables and creamy potatoes for extra fat. He had the smallest sliver of chicken, a few vegetables, and none of the potatoes. Every mouthful got stuck in his throat.

"Are you okay?" El asked. "You don't look it."

Dale frowned at her.

"If you don't want to tell me, that's fine… I just thought you might want to talk." She said.

Dale stared at her some more.

"… I guess the trial didn't go well then."

Dale pushed his plate away. "No, it didn't."

"How come?"

"I messed up." He said. How did he say any more than that? It was painful ground.

A silence passed, until El went rummaging in her lunchbox. Dale wondered what she was doing. Eventually, she pulled out a yoghurt.

"My mum says yoghurts are the best food to eat with eating disorders." She slid it over to him.

"How did you… I don't have…" He tried. How had El known? Oh God, had Maggie been telling people? No, Maggie wouldn't do that.

El stared at the yoghurt. "You look just like my mum when she's trying to eat something. Picking."

Dale was shocked that she's found him out, but he had some questions. "Your Mum had trouble eating?" Was she lying?

"Yeah, she does. She'd kill me if she knew I was telling you."

Dale ran a hand through his hair. "Don't worry; I won't tell." He waited for her to go on.

El sighed a little. "She's had it since before I was born. I don't really notice it that much any more- used to it, I guess." She turned her hair at him, her hair swaying. "Do you?"

Dale took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. Suddenly, he felt angry.

"What if I don't want to tell you? Who are you anyway, poking your nose in?" He snarled.

El looked hurt, and twisted her hands. "Sorry. I'm not very good with talking; I always end up offending. Sorry. But maybe you should tell someone."

Dale gave a long sigh. The anger seeped out of him. Should he tell this girl? He hardly knew her, and she'd poked her nose in where it wasn't needed. But maybe, just maybe, she was trying to be kind. But then he look down at the yoghurt, and decided. "Yes." The answer was shot; he didn't have the strength for any more.

El nodded, and Dale felt a small bit of relief. At least she wasn't running for the hills.

She slid him the spoon, and Dale grasped it so hard his knuckles tuned white. He opened the yoghurt, his hands shaking. El watched him, gaze steady.

Slowly, Dale dipped the spoon in and out of the yogurt. As he watched, his had moved towards his mouth. Part of him was screaming for him to throw the spoon away; he was going to ruin all their good wok. Another part of him, though, urged him on.

He swallowed the yoghurt; it slid down his throat.


	3. Chapter 3

Dale gunned the gear box, making the car groan. Lennie gave him a worried look; the boy was obviously terrified. Dale, though, only looked straight ahead, saying: "Just getting started, mate." And he was. This was only the beginning.

"Where did you even learn how to drive?" Lennie asked.

Dale didn't answer him, instead concentrating on the road, on the pedals and the feel of the car moving. It was brilliant.

He'd forgotten how good it felt, being behind a car wheel. Maybe not as good as being behind the handlebars of a bike, nothing would be as good as this, but this was as close as he was going to get now that had been taken away from him.

Dale's vision clouded with anger, and he made the car go even faster.

"Dale, come on, slowdown will you?" asked Lennie. His friends obviously wasn't enjoying the mid- afternoon ride, shown from the fact that he hadn't let go of the seat from the minute he'd gotten into the car. Dale saw that his knuckled were white through the skin. Sure, it was quite funny seeing Lennie look like he might throw up any second, but the drive wasn't about Lennie.

It was about him.

Dale needed a win- he needed some excitement. Stealing the car had been a first, but he needed ore. He needed some excitement, he needed a thrill to blow off some steam, to get rid of the heavy, numb feeling that had settled over him since he'd lost the trials and his bike had been taken away.

He knew just the thing.

"It's alright, calm down!" He shouted above the engine. Still, Lennie held on tight to the car seat.

Dale backed the car up. Then he started to turn it round in a circle- he leant towards Lennie from the forces pulling him to the side. Then he was back up, making the car go faster and faster. The turns became more and more frequent- Dale's head became more and more dizzy.

"Whoa, getting faster…"

"What are you doing? Slow down!" Lennie cried.

"Whoa…"

"It' not funny- we want to take this home in one piece, alright?" Lennie told him. "It's not funny anymore!"

Dale just laughed- it so was.

Round and round they went, getting faster and faster, but Dale was happy. That numb feeling was gone.

But as quickly as he had thought that was it back again. Even as the car went faster and faster, the numb feeing remained, making him feel like he was covered in treacle, or down in the deep end, slowly drowning.

Dale gripped the steering wheel. He needed to get rid of the feeling- he had to get rid of it now.

Stopping the car out of its spin, he turned the car around and went backwards a bit- the backup.

"Right, that's it," Lennie said. "Let's just go home."

Dale ignored him. "Not a bad car," he said. "Let's try this. Come on!"

Lennie looked worried at what Dale was going to do.

He revved the car up again, making the engine groan. When Dale looked over, he said that Lennie had put his head into his hand. Dale made a mental note never to take his friend to a theme park. He pressed down on the accelerator, and now, when he looked, Lennie was staring straight ahead, his eyes wide open- he was terrified.

"Come on!" Dale cried. The car zoomed forward, getting closer and closer to the wall.

"Dale, you're gonna hit the wall! You're going to hit the wall!" Lennie screamed.

But Dale ignored him, staring straight ahead, his foot firmly jammed on the accelerator. Faster and faster they went, the landscape outside zooming past him like he was going a thousand miles an hour. It was brilliant. The numb feeling in his chest, although it wasn't completely done, had warmed up a bit, and the closer they got to the wall, the smaller the feeling became.

The buzz was nearly back.

"Stop, Dale!" Lennie screamed at the top of his voice.

The wall was rushing up to meet them, but Lennie's panicked voice had gotten through to Dale. He waited a few seconds, concentration on the car below him, on the engine, on the feeling it gave him, risking his life. But, either from Lennie's voice or the fact that Dale was a coward (He'd known this already- he couldn't even stick to his diet properly,) Dale managed to stop the car before they both became pancakes.

As the car stopped, Dale stared at Lennie, grinning like a mad man. His friend was the opposite; he looked like he'd left something in his trousers before they'd hit the wall. The numbness was still nearly gone- making Dale feel as light as air.

But it was sods law, because as soon as they'd driven a few hundred metres, it was back again.

* * *

Dale crept through the door of the school house. Lennie was right behind him. They walked straight into the kitchen- Dale's least favourite room- and bumped straight into Maggie, when Dale was holding her keys.

"Alright lads?" She asked, walking straight up to them.

Dale didn't miss a beat, though.

"Yeah…" He said, holding up her car keys. Then, as smooth as an oily salesman, he said: Are these yours? I found them out in the hallway."

Confused, Maggie looked at them. "They must have fallen out of me bag. Thanks."

She smiled and he smiled back- _it was too easy, _though Dale. It was like Maggie was asking him to do it, making it so easy. At least at his other schools, they'd made it a challenge.

"Hook, line and sinker." He said, going upstairs.

"Look, she's not stupid," Lennie followed him. "Right, don't risk that again Dale."

"You're serious?" He asked him in disbelief. "That's just for starters."

He'd get rid of that numb feeling- even if it killed him.

In his room, Dale jumped onto his bed. His whole body ached; from either the adrenaline or the lack of food- Dale couldn't tell. The car ride had been fantastic- although he still had the numb feeling, for a second, adrenaline had run through his veins- almost like the day of the bike trial.

It wasn't enough though- he'd have to do more. He had to.

Lying on his bed, Dale's thoughts on driving drifted to a person that he hadn't thought about in years- his uncle. Dave had been the one to teach him how to drive, in the hope that having something to concentrate on would stop his wild, dangerous behaviour. And, for a while there, it'd worked.

Dale had enjoyed learning to drive with Dave, The man might have had a terrible goatee and been slightly annoying, with his slightly hippie and always enthusiastic personality, but he had been nice enough. Driving with Dave had been fun, gave him something to do, and, most importantly, had kept him away from his Aunt and his cat.

Dale's stomach flipped at the thought of Dave- he hadn't allowed himself to think of the man in years. When he'd left, Dale had been so angry; it had been like he was being abandoned. There were no more lessons, his behaviour was in a downwards spiral, and his Aunt was worse than over…

Shaking his head out of his thoughts, Dale ran his hands up and down his legs. Those thoughts were bad thoughts, and he didn't want them- things were bad enough as it was.

As he ran his hands up and down them, Dale's legs ached. He was still doing well, he supposed, with Maggie watching his every move like a hawk. He'd only gained a few pounds on that diet, and now that he couldn't cycle, he was going to lose even more.

After all, he had no reason to put it on after all. He was going to do wat he wanted, and that was to finally get thin. He was going to stick to his very own diet plan and everything.

"Cheat," he said.

He'd broken the rules, though, and he was cheat. Yoghurts had no place on Dale's eating plan, yet he'd eaten one anyway, like the fat pig he was. How could he have said no though? Learning that El's mum had an eating disorder, her looking at him the whole time- it had weakened him.

No more though- he was going to be stronger, stick to his diet and continue with the progress he'd made. He was finally going to get thin.

At the thought of El, his stomach started to feel funny. Stretching his arms above his head, Dale thought on it. He liked El, he really did. _She might be kind of weird… a lot weird actually, _Dale thought, but she was smart and funny, and he liked her, he really did. He also liked the fact that she didn't run for the hills when she'd learned what a fuck up he was.

The butterflies in his stomach… they weren't nerves, like when he thought of Dave. He'd felt them over lunch, after the yoghurt scene. They'd talked for a bit, about Dale and his problems and the bike trial that had gone wrong. El had listened, looking like she was actually interested.

For once, Dale felt like someone actually cared.

That was something that Dale hadn't felt since Dave had walked out and him and his Aunt, before his mum had died, leaving him with _her_.

El had told him more about her mum and her eating disorder, but, apart from that she hadn't told him any more about her parents. Not that Dale could complain; he hadn't told her anything either. But he liked El- she made him smile.

Then the Havalock lot had left and Dale had been left sitting alone. He looked at the empty yoghurt pot and thought of El, and he got this… feeling. This feeling of butterflies in the bottom of his stomach, not nerves, but something else entirely- it was nice. Really nice.

And it was happening every time he thought of El. Every time he thought of her jokes, even the terrible ones (there were many), every time she sprouted a science fact or every time she listened to him properly, looking at him with those bright green eyes.

_She must like me, _Dale thought. _Otherwise why else would she come up to me in the first place? _The presentation had probably just been an excuse to talk to him. He'd had girls do it to him before. Yeah, with all that happened today, with El choosing to sit by him, Dale knew she liked him.

As he lay on the bed, the numb feeling was still there, weighing him down so that he thought that he might fall through the bed (which he now knew was a quantum possibility, thanks to El), but there was something else; the butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

Now, as he though to El, of her brown hair, her green eyes and red lips –_oh, those lips_, he felt slightly lighter. Only slightly, but it was like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Like a rock had been removed from his windpipe. And with the numb feeing drowning him, Dale would take all the help that he could get.

Later, Lennie poked his head round the door. It was around six- thirty, and Dale was still lying on his bed, thinking about El amongst other things.

"Dinners ready, mate." He said.

Dale looked at his friend. "You're not going to tell her, are you?" He asked, about Maggie.

Lennie looked offended. "No, of course not! She'd kill us."

"Good," Dale said, getting off his bed. He took off his coat and then followed Lennie downstairs, where he could smell food: Maggie's meatloaf. No doubt Dale would be getting some doctor's orders version that would make him gain weight just by looking at it.

Sure enough, he got a plate piled high with meatloaf, with a side of potatoes slathered with butter and green beans with the same on them. Dale could see the butter oozing from it, dripping down onto his plate and mixing with the meatloaf juices. How many calories was it? 500? 1000? 1500? God.

As he poked his fork around his plate, not eating anything. He felt Maggie's eyes on him. The woman was obviously trying to make it inconspicuous, but it wasn't working, because he could see her spying on him. Why couldn't she just keep her nose out?

"Come on Dale, eat a bit. You have to stick to your diet."

He ignored her, staring straight ahead. Dale felt another pair of eyes on him, when he looked up, he saw they were Lennie's. His friend probably thought he was being rude, but oh well. He was still so angry with the both of them; they'd ruined his dreams, so maybe they deserved to suffer. Maybe that's why he'd enjoyed the car ride today- it had scared Lennie.

Or maybe he was just a terrible person- after all, he couldn't even stick to his diet or make it onto the team. Well, no more. He'd get thin, whatever it took. No more jiggling thighs when he walked, no more bingo wings when he swung his arms.

Then Dale's thoughts moved away from the kitchen and onto El. He wondered what she was doing, if she was eating and what. He didn't see her tomorrow, as they didn't have science, but soon.

Soon he'd see her again and make his move.


	4. Chapter 4

Dale felt nothing.

He lay in the ditch he'd been thrown into when he crashed Maggie's car, not moving. He knew she should do something, check for damage, feel his neck, blink, _anything, _but he couldn't. It was too hard to move. His whole body felt like jelly, not allowing him to move. So he continued to lay in the ditch, lying on mud and with a nettle stinging his leg.

Finally, after a few minutes, the numbness stopped and his reflexes kicked in; he blinked. After that, he wasted no time in getting back on his feet and getting the hell out of there. Maggie's car was _trashed._

The whole front of it was completely obliterated- Dale didn't want to look. By looking at the tree, he could tell that it wasn't good. There were scratches up and down the vehicle, paint had come off and one of the taillights was smashed in.

Yeah, Dale wasn't sticking around to see Maggie's reaction.

On wobbly knees, he made his way back to the school house. The sun was peeking through the sky, but when Dale hid behind a bush and checked his watch, he saw it wasn't that late. He could probably make it back before anyone realised that he was gone.

Creeping in through the front door, Dale could see Maggie in the kitchen. She'd probably just come downstairs and was starting to make breakfast. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he crept in behind her- he hardly breathed.

Then he was past her and dashing up the stairs. Of course she hadn't caught him- nothing interesting like that would ever happen.

Making it back to his room, Dale sat and thought. He couldn't believe he'd crashed Maggie's car, but whilst it had been scary, he was glad he'd done it. That fear, that rush of adrenaline- it had been brilliant. He'd almost got his old buzz back. Almost.

On the subject of that old buzz, Dale needed to do something else to get rid of that numb feeling. Opening one of his drawers, her went to the back and took out his stash of weed. It had been fairly easy to get the weed, as he'd known where to go looking from

The dealer, Rick, had seemed pretty cool when Dale had talked to him, and had sold him some pretty good stuff.

Rolling the joint up expertly, Dale was startled by a knock on the door. Startled, he quickly covered the joint with his cot.

Lennie stepped into the room in a towel- he must have been the one that Dale's heard showering earlier. At the sight of his friend, Dale instantly relaxed.

"There you are." Lennie asked, as if Dale had been lost.

"Do you wanna knock?" he snapped.

"Sorry- you woke me up at half two. I heard you, sneaking out." Lennie told him.

It was easy to come up with a lie: "Yeah, I couldn't sleep. Went for a walk."

"Must have been a pretty long walk." Lennie said.

Somehow, Dale didn't think Lennie believed him.

Dale just shrugged.

Finally, Lennie let it go. "Anyway, I'll see you at breakfast, mate." He closed the door behind him.

Alone at last, Dale continued to roll up his joint.

Yoghurts weren't enough.

Every lunch that El came to Waterloo Road, he'd have the yoghurt that was always in her lunchbox; he'd suspected that she'd started to pack it for him. He was on better terms with Lennie, now that his anger had cooled down... but still, yoghurts weren't enough.

The weight was dropping off him. Every day used the bathroom, he would strip off and use the old scales Maggie didn't know he knew about-_they were hidden behind a bathroom cupboard- what a terrible hiding place- _Dale thought. Then, we would jot down his weight in a notebook that Maggie also didn't know about, and, sure enough, the weight was dropping off.

On one hand, Dale felt ecstatic. He was less fat, there was less (but still some) jiggle when he walked and he looked better than he ever had- imagine how quick he would be on a bike! He would have had his fastest times ever- he might have even broken some team records!

On the other hand… Dale didn't feel so good. He supposed they were side effects of such a drastic diet, so Dale tried to ignore them- if he didn't think about them, they weren't there… But he'd noticed that since he'd stopped eating, he'd been getting more tired than usual, got more headaches and he sometimes got dizzy when he stood up too fast.

"Not much of a sacrifice, though," Dale told himself. Every time he saw his weight was dropping off, a swell of pride bubbled in his chest. He was doing it. He was actually losing weight.

But the numb feeling was still there. It had gotten worse during the week, and instead of being a weight in the centre of Dale's chest, it had spread across his body; it gave his pins and needles and made him feel like he was freezing to death. It had started to keep him up at night, so last night, he'd decided to do something to get rid of it- to drive in the pitch black, and to run the risk of getting caught.

But it hadn't worked. Even the adrenaline rush he'd felt the last time was gone. _What else do I have to do? _Thought Dale.

Slowly, his thoughts drifted to other things- in particular El. That feeling in his stomach hadn't stopped- in fact, he'd noticed it had been getting stronger. Also, he'd started to notice other things about her, like how she had a beauty spot on the right side of her face, how she chewed her nails, and how she was sometimes insensitive in the things she said (odd and sometimes rude) without noticing it- she just kept smiling at him like she always did.

El was strange- maybe that was one of the reasons why Dale liked her.

Dale knew what the feeling was; he wasn't a Moran. The last time he'd felt that feeling was when he'd gone out with Angelia Smith- and that had ended it a field with less clothing that he'd started with.

Dale liked El liked her liked her and he told himself that there was going to be no more waiting around- today he'd ask her out.

Whilst he'd been thinking, his joint had burned down. His finger brushed over the now- very- close flame.

"Fuck!" He hissed. He hadn't felt a thing.

* * *

After he'd gotten dressed, Dale went downstairs to breakfast. He sat down. He wasn't happy- he hated breakfast; he hated being pressured by Maggie to eat.

When he'd sat down, Maggie had smiled and quickly walked over to him, holding a plate or scrambled eggs that had been waiting for him. She sat down next to him- she was going to watch him eat. Now, Dale eyed the late of eggs and sighed. How long would it take him to burn all those calories off? How far would he have to walk? Dale also hated it when Maggie sat with him when he ate. She had good intentions, but it was making Dale angry- she was the whole reason why he had this numb feeling- why couldn't she just leave him the hell alone?

He picked up a fork and looked at Lenny, happily eating his cereal. He could see some of the food in Lennie's mouth as he chewed, all the sugar and carbs. It wasn't fair! Lenny ate like a pig but he as thinner than Dale ever would be without even trying.

"Uh…" Maggie started. "I think you might have forgotten to go to your counselling yesterday."

"I didn't forget, I just chose not to go." Dale said truthfully, holding his fork that now had egg on it. He could see the oil on it now, the calories basically oozing off it. That councillor was a moron- with a body as round as a table, how did he understand Dale's problems? And the talking. There was always so much talking. Dale couldn't understand it. If people had problems, why should they have to talk about them? His problems were buried for a reason.

"Well, it's not gonna work, is it, if you keep missing sessions." Maggie snipped.

"It's a waste of time, Dale shot back, slamming his fork on the table. "Like this!" He shouted. He pushed the eggs off the table, where they smashed on the floor. He stormed out.

2

Dale sat in English class.

"Not one would mind, not bird nor tree, if mankind perished utterly. And spring herself, when she woke at dawn, would scarcely know that we were gone." Carrie finished.

"There will be soft rains by Sarah Teasdale." Said Mr Fitzgerald. "Tell us why you chose it, Carrie."

"It's about nature, and…" she frowned, thinking. "… How it wouldn't care if all humans were wiped out by war. It's sort of depressing, and not at the same time." Carrie sat down.

"Any questions?"

The poem was stupid. _Of course nature would care if humans were wiped out by war, _thought Dale. Who would feed his Aunt's cat? The fat flea ball would be able to hunt for itself.

"It's a lie," he said. "Some nature would care if humans weren't around. My aunt's cat would die if she didn't feed it."

"Well, you don't know that, Dale. Your aunt's cat might prove to be very resourceful."

Hardly.

"I wouldn't care if it died." And it was true. It was weird to be jealous of a cat, but when he'd been living with his aunt, he had been. Sometimes it had seemed like his aunt had cared more about that cat than she had about him.

"I'm sure it feels the same way about you." Vaughn said, and everybody laughed. Dale rolled his eyes.

"Okay, Dale, since you're so keen to make an active contribution, maybe we should hear from you next."

Dale sighed, but he didn't mind talking so much now. The one good thing about feeling numb all the time was that he no longer felt nervous.

"Bet he hasn't even bothered." Said Lisa.

God, Lisa. Did she ever say anything nice? Dale had never really spoken to her, but he'd listened to her. Really, it was just one snide comment after another. How could the sister of _Lenny, _of all people, be so horrible?

"Actually, I have, so keep this" he pointed to his nose, "out." Standing in the centre of the classroom, he began: "My most memorable piece of writing is from Spiderman No More-"he was cut off by everyone laughing at him.

They thought he was having a joke. "I'm not gonna do it if you're gonna laugh." He told them.

"Enough." Vaughn said.

They stopped, and Dale began again. "Okay, so, Peter Parker's Spider man. This amazing superhero. But it's like no one appreciates him for it, so he just quits- throws his Spidey costume in the bin and walks out."

"And?" Vaughn asked.

Dale paused. "So memorable he can't even remember it." Lisa snipped. Again, everyone laughed.

"Shhh." Mr Fitzgerald told them.

Dale began again. "Saving lives is what Spiderman was put on this Earth to do. He was miserable as a superhero, but he finds it, trying to be a normal guy, is even worse."

You could've heard a pin drop in the room, it was that silent. Dale thought on it, and maybe he wasn't talking about Peter Parker at all.

Later, the bell went and Dale was walking out of the lesson when Mr Fitzgerald called him back.

"How's the therapy going?" He asked.

It wasn't, but Dale wasn't going to tell Mr Fitzgerald that. "Therapist doesn't need to discuss it with anyone."

"Quite right. But you're eating properly?"

Mr Fitzgerald genuinely seemed to care, and that was harder to lie to. "Yeah," he said quickly.

Mr Fitzgerald took a deep breath. "The thing about Spiderman is that he did put his Spidey costume back on and continued saving the world." Dale stared straight ahead, thinking. "He just had to want to."

Maybe Mr Fitzgerald knew Dale hadn't been talking about Spiderman, either. But the advice was stupid. Of course he wanted to cycle again! That's all he wanted. That's all he'd kept asking his therapist, his doctor- anyone who could give him answers.

But it was impossible. Everywhere he'd turned, everyone he'd turned to had been a dead end. Except maybe El. But Dale knew he'd just have to come to terms with the fact that he's never cycle again.

* * *

"You look even more depressed than usual."

Dale came out of stupor, and looked over to where El was sitting next to him, doing both of their science worksheets.

"What?" he asked.

El frowned at the worksheet, working a particular difficult question out. Dale didn't know which questions were hard or not- he was hopeless at science; even more so now the numb feeling had spread over his life. Suddenly, El's face smoothed out again, and she wrote the answer on their worksheets, before looking up at Dale.

"You look depressed. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he grunted. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

_What was he thinking about? _It was harder to tell nowadays. Biking, he was always thinking about that, even now. Sometimes he'd just be in his room, or in class, and he'd all of a sudden be imagining himself on his bike, riding.

He was also thinking about his diet, obviously, and the ways he could get rid of this bloody numb feeling now Maggie's car was out of action. More drugs maybe. And El. Dale was thinking of El and just when to make his move. He probably would have felt nervous if he wasn't so numb.

But he couldn't say any of these things, without giving away how he felt.

"Nothing-"El frowned, worried. "I'm fine, El, really, stop worrying-"

"I'm not worrying-"Dale raised an eyebrow. "Really, I'm not! I'm just…" she searched for the right word, squirming in her stool. "… Worried."

Dale snorted.

"Don't laugh! Dale, I'm worried. You hardly talk anymore." She pointed to the worksheets. "And you're making even less effort with the worksheets than usual. Should I bring in more food? There's these really nice jellies in the fridge-"

"Miss Avington!" Mr D'Olivera shouted, cutting El's worried rant off, saving Dale from making another excuse- he didn't know if he could say no to that worried gaze.

"Stop talking!"

El turned her attention onto Mr D'Olivera. "Sir, you love me really."

"I'd like you much more if you did your work instead of talking about food!" Mr D'Olivera said, and the class laughed.

El smiled with the rest of them, and pointed to her worksheet. "In the process of doing so, Sir."

She shut up whilst Mr D'Olivera explained some other part of the copper extraction method that the class might not have gotten, but soon whispered: "I'm sorry Dale. I don't mean to be full on- I'm just worried, that's all."

Dale whispered back. "Its fine, El. _I'm fine_. Really," he said, when El continued to stare.

"Okay."

"Oy, Posho," Lisa hissed from the next table, while Mr D'Olivera's back was turned. "Shut up!"

"I'm not a Posho…."

"You are." She did an impression of El's voice, a high pitched, posh accent. "_Oh, Dale, I'm just worried, that's all!"_

El looked annoyed. "It's not being posh- it's called pronouncing your words properly."

"Ohh!" Shazneey and Lisa laughed at El's obvious irritation.

"You sound like you're off Downton Abbey," Shazneey said.

"Posho!" Lisa shouted out, and the rest of the class laughed.

"My name's El; not Posho. You can either call me El, or you can call me nothing."

"Alright then, Nothing!" The class burst into nothing, and Mr D'Olivera spun round, annoyed.

"You f-"El muttered.

"Oy! Both of you, be quiet, or you're both going to the cooler!" Mr D'Olivera shouted.

El and Lisa both shut up, and the lesson carried on.

Dale looked at El. "You do talk kind of posh, though."

"Shut up!" El hissed, but it was the kind of talk where you could hear the laughter under the words, just waiting to spill out. That made Dale like her even more. Her face, when she smiled, well, if Dale hadn't been numb, he might have felt butterflies.

At the end of the lesson, much to the dismay of the class, if the groans were anything to be learnt from, Mr D'Olivera gave out homework. Not just any homework- oh, no. This was a project, evaluating the best ways of copper extraction and ways metals could be extracted from their ores more cheaply.

As soon as he heard, it, Dale groaned. _That's gonna take hours, _he thought.

That's if he did it.

Dale probably wasn't going to do it.

El, however, had other ideas.

"Wanna go to the library at lunch? That way, we can get it other and done with."

Dale stared at her- did she not know how you did homework? Acknowledge that you have the homework, watch the deadline creep slowly closer and then do a rushed version on the last day, or don't do it all.

Dale usually did the latter.

But working with El meant that he actually probably would have to do much work, wouldn't fail the homework- and, Dale suddenly thought, _I'd be alone with her in the library. _

Yeah, it was perfect- hardly anyone came into the library at lunch, which meant they'd be alone, which meant it would be the perfect place to make his move.

"Sure," Dale said.

* * *

They left the classroom and made their way to the library. Havalock was staying until after lunch because there was another lesson after- it was a split double. So Dale would have the entire lunch break to make his move.

They chatted as they made their way to the library- well, El did, and Dale grunted occasionally in response. It wasn't that he was nervous, no, he was too numb for that, but he didn't want to mess up Did El, even like him, or did she just feel sorry for him now? Plus, as Dale walked past the sports hall, he couldn't help but still mourn his biking career.

All in all, it wasn't a nice jumble of thoughts.

When they made it to outside the library, with El saying something about the large hadron collider getting revamped to look for material reality, a kid pushed right past Dale, slamming him hard in the shoulder.

The kid, who couldn't have been more than fifteen, didn't even bother to say sorry, instead just talked to his friends. Dale still felt numb, but knew he should feel angry. He wanted to feel angry. He wanted to feel adrenaline.

Almost in a trace, Dale walked up the kid, tapped his back, and when the kid turned round, punched him square in the nose.

"Dale!" El screamed, running over. "What are you doing?"

He didn't answer her, though, instead getting the dazed kid on the floor, putting his arm under the kid's neck and continuing to punch. Huh. Finally, his fighting days were coming in handy.

"Shove me, will you?" Dale seethed. "I'll show you!"

Now, as small crowd had gathered, including the kid's friends and El. The kid's friends tried to get him off, but Dale stayed firm. He didn't budge- and the kid's nose was beginning to look like a bloody pulp.

In the end, it was El that got him off.

"Dale!" She screamed again. This time, though, she ran into the circle, grabbed his shoulders and with all his might, pulled Dale off the kid.

The crowd went silent. Dale could see the kid on the floor, his nose bloody. He was hardly moving.

"Come on, let's go." El said, pulling him into the library. No teachers had come yet- they were all probably in the staff room or dining hall.

Once inside the library, they made their way to the computers. Dale was still in his trace. He didn't notice that El looked shaken, as you would be after seeing someone getting batten up, never mind it being by your friend.

They started on the project, saying nothing. What could they say? Dale could still save it, though. He could still ask El out.

El typed, Dale helping out very little. They sat close, very close, so close that Dale could feel the heat on her skin and smell her hair- apple shampoo.

Dale leaned in. "El, are you alright?" he asked. As he did so, he drew his hand closer to her leg.

El ran a hand through her hair, which was now sticking up. "What… what did you… do that for-"she paused. Dale had started to run his hand up her leg as she'd talked.

Still in the trace- like state, the next thing he knew he'd been pushed back in his chair, shoved.

"What the fuck ae you doing?" El shouted. She was seething.

"I thought you wanted… don't be like that, El. isn't this what you wanted?" He asked.

"Oh God… Oh God, Oh God, Oh God…" she whispered, standing up, rubbing her leg where Dale had touched her. Charming.

"What the fuck is wrong with you Dale? You're moody, you're mean, and you're monosyllabic…. And now you beat up a kid and try and feel me up? Is that what you thought this was? Some feeling free- for- all?" She looked so angry, Dale thought smoke might come out of her ears.

"I thought we were friends, Dale." She finished.

"We are…"

"Friends don't do this!" El shouted. "Friends tell each other what's the matter! Friends don't try and feel the other up!" she paused. "I've got to go," she said, grabbing her satchel. "Don't follow me."

And with that, El left.

He'd ruined it all. His last friend, gone.

Dale was alone.

**Thanks for viewing my story!**

**Please review- I'd really like to know what you all think. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Outside, Dale sat smoking a joint. It was cold, but he couldn't feel it. He kept playing that last moment over and over in his head.

"Shit." He said. It summed the situation up pretty well, so he said it again.

_What was his problem? Why had he punched that kid? _And El. He cursed again. Dale had defiantly blown it with her, not only as something more than friends, but as friends as well. _Why was he so stupid? _It was like he'd been in a trance, like his body had needed to feel something so badly that it had shut down his brain to get it.

Well, Dale hadn't felt anything, and now, he was sitting outside, basically friendless, with only a joint for company. A joint that was nearly finished, at that. Again, Dale cursed- he was running out of weed which meant he'd have to get some more. Oh well- maybe the trip to Rick, the drug dealer, would be interesting.

After a while, Dale heard footsteps coming in his direction.

Lenny ran down the steps. Dale felt him looking at him, staring at the joint that Dale was puffing.

"Is that what I think it is?" Lenny asked.

Dale paused, taking another drag, before answering: "Why, do you want some?"

"No. It's too risky," Lenny said, and Dale nearly laughed. Risk of what? Actually having some fun for once? But instead he said:

"I think I've messed it up with El." He sounded depressed even for him.

"What do you mean?"

Dale told him, about the fight and the feeling incident and El running off. Lenny sighed and put down his bag.

"What's wrong with you? Drugs, fighting, feeling girls up- and the police found Maggie's car. It was smashed into a tree somewhere. Just wondering if you knew anything about it."

At the last in the list of his recent screw- ups, Dale's ears pricked. "It's good to know that you've got such great faith in me, Lenny."

"Well it's not the first time you've borrowed the car… and to be honest Dale, you have been kinda off the rails recently." Lennie said.

Dale lost it. Not even his best friend had faith in him anymore. "Look- I didn't steal her car, okay?" he shouted.

"Okay," Lennie said, picking up his bag and leaving.

Alone, Dale took another puff from his joint.

From the school building, about three hundred meters away, he could hear the bell going, signally that it was time to get to lessons. Mentally, Dale thought about what lesson he had next and whether he could be bothered to turn up and show his face. Mr Braxton, Resistant Materials.

The subject, which basically comprised of chopping up different pieces of wood with different sized drills, didn't exactly fill Dale up with joy. And the last time he'd seen Mr Braxton was when he'd locked Mr D'Olivera up in the cupboard. While the science teacher had seemed to let it go, Dale didn't know if Mr Braxton had let go of the whole key- in- his- mouth incident. If he was being perfectly honest, he didn't want to find out.

_I think I'll just skip it, _he thought.

So Dale stayed outside long after he'd heard everyone go in, finishing his joint.

He'd have to get some more weed tonight.

* * *

Back at the school house, Dale stormed upstairs into his room. He didn't even say hello to Maggie when she called upstairs to him. In his room, Dale flung off his bag and jumped on his bed, kicking off his trainers. On his bed, he checked his weed store in a drawer in his bedside table.

"Shit," he muttered under breath. Just as he thought; there was hardly any left. He was going to have to go and get some more after all, if he wanted to try and keep the numb feeling away for a while. The marijuana gave him a warm feeling (although he didn't know if that was just in his mind) and the more he took, the more stoned he got- meaning that it was easier to forget all of his mistakes, all the things he wished he could change.

Dale was going to be smoking a lot tonight.

Outside his door, there was the thunder of footsteps. The others were back then; Lisa and Lenny and all the rest. Sure enough, a few moments later a knock sounded on his door and Lenny's poked his head around it.

"Alright?" he asked.

Dale shrugged. "Fine."

Lenny looked uncomfortable. He clutched the side of Dale's door. "Look Dale… I'm sorry I was so harsh earlier. I'm just worried. It's like you're not yourself."

Part of Dale believed that the opposite was true; that he was himself. Was this numb, fighting, drinking creature that was living in his body really him? At first, when he'd been cycling, it had been easy enough to pretend it wasn't- he'd had something else to focus on, after all. But now, with every passing day, it was getting more and more likely that this was, in fact, the real him.

That possibility terrified Dale. But he didn't have the strength to stop it.

Dale didn't answer Lenny, so his friend continued on, regardless.

"Are you upset about El?"

"What?" Dale snapped, making Lenny move back a bit. Inside, Dale winced: he hadn't meant to sound that sharp, he'd just been shocked that people had noticed him and El. was he still noticeable, even without his cycling.

"Sorry," Dale apologised. "I'm upset. I liked her, you know?"

"I get that."

"I think I've… I've totally blown it with her, though. I don't know what came over me." Dale played with his duvet whilst he talked, not looking Lenny in the eye. His friend came over and sat on his bed.

"I don't know about that. Maybe if you apologise, she'll forgive you."

It didn't seem likely to Dale. If he'd been felt up by someone, he didn't know if he'd be so willing to forgive. Instead of saying these thoughts, though he told Lenny: "Maybe."

Lennie nodded and patted Dale on the back. "It's obvious you like her, mate." He turned to leave, before turning round again. "Maggie says dinner's a six. It's Maggie's special macaroni and cheese." And with that, he left.

_Great, _Dale thought. _Another meal where you gain a pound just by looking it. _

* * *

After dinner (which Dale had managed mostly not to eat but pushing it under itself) Dale stepped out the school house, closing the door behind him. It was around 9 o'clock- Maggie had let him out because he'd said he was doing a project around a friend's house- that meant he had a few minutes to get down to the docks to meet his drug dealer.

The cold bit at Dale's exposed face as he walked. He felt in his pocket, to check that his money was all there- yep, it was all there. It was good to check; drug dealers were not people that you wanted to get into debt with. That was a lesson that Dale had learned from previous experience.

After a few minutes of brisk walking, Dale made it to the old shipyards of the Greenock docks. A faint salty smell wafted into his nose and he could imagine ships being constructed here years ago, if not for the crane that towered above him.

He checked his watch. Rick was late- there was nothing to do but wait.

The events of the day flashed through Dale' already troubled mind- the car crash, the fight, and, of course, El. All the terrible events posed the same question: _why was he such a screw up? _It was nothing new, but recently Dale had taken it to new levels.

Dale was sure he'd blown it with El. He really liked her, he really had. Dale had never met anyone like her before- it wasn't every day that you came across someone that sprouted science facts in regular conversation, made him laugh and feel butterflies every time he looked at her, and, it was even rarer for someone to actually listen to Dale's screw up and still stay.

And now Dale had ruined it all.

God, he really needed that weed.

Shortly after, Dale saw the blurry, small figure of Rick slowly start to walk towards him. The figure gradually got bigger until Rick was standing in front of him.

"Dale," he grinned. "How you doing, man?"

"Good." Dale got his money of his pocket- some of which he'd gotten from Maggie's handbag. She probably wouldn't notice it had gone, or think that she'd spent it already. "The usual, please."

Rick took the money from Dale and counted it, before putting it into a pocket in his coat. From another pocket, he took out a small plastic bag. In it was just the thing Dale had wanted. "One small bag of weed. Getting though the stuff quick enough, aren't ya? You sure it's just you smoking it?"

Dale took the bag of weed. "I just like getting stoned a lot."

Again, Rick chuckled. "Same here." He leaned closer. "Say, what about trying something a bit harder? Would give you a longer buzz than this stuff."

Dale thought it over. Harder stuff. He knew what they were- drugs like heroin and cocaine, stuff that might give him a bigger buzz, but would make him an even bigger screw up if he got stuck on them.

"Nah," Dale said, holding up the week. "Think I'll just stick with this."

"Sure, man. But listen- I like you, and I want to invite you to a party me and my girlfriend are throwing. Just a small thing, with music and girls and crap, but you're welcome to come if you like."

Dale thought it over. Really, he was flattered that Rick had invited him. He liked the guy, and he didn't have anything on tomorrow night- except from getting stoned, and he could do that round Rick's house- without Maggie on his back, maybe with a girl. It might even give him the buzz he craved.

So his answer was a no- brainer. "Yeah, sure."

"Cool." Rick grinned. "Newport road, number 17, behind the old factory on Second Street. 10 o'clock."

Dale slid the weed into his pocket. "I'll be there."

* * *

Back in his room, after another successful attempt of avoiding Maggie, Dale was smoking his new weed. It was good stuff- real quality, unlike some of the stuff that he'd smoked in the past- stuff that was more tobacco than the drug you were actually paying for.

He smoked his spliff out of the window, so there was less chance of someone smelling it. It was late, so it was dark outside. A cool breeze flew onto his face, chilling him. Dale knew he should get away from the window soon, but the breeze was actually really refreshing and he couldn't bring himself to close it.

The only thing that wasn't refreshing was the stream of thoughts that kept running into his head- the car, the fight, _El. _He wished he was with her now. Maybe if he was with her he'd feel better- she might even do the impossible and make he him laugh.

All of a sudden, the door burst open. Ian shock, Dale blew in smoke the wrong way and started to have a coughing fit. Was it Maggie? Shit- she'd catch him with the weed. But then he saw who it was. It was Lisa. "Brought you that C-"she stopped, seeing what Dale was doing. "-D that you wanted…"

Seeing it was just Lisa, Dale calmed down and continued to look out of the window. He wasn't that comfortable with Lisa- if he was honest, he thought she was mean and was still angry from the 'Potion' jibes her and Shaznay had given El, all over some accent. How stupid was that? "Thought you were Budgen."

She gave a small laugh. "Thanks a lot." Dale took another puff from his spliff. "Didn't know athletes smoked."

That was a lie- Lisa was wrong. He wasn't an athlete. Any hope Dale had had of getting an Olympic medal had crashed and burned the moment Maggie had pulled him off the tea. "Not an athlete, remember?"

"One setback and you give up?" she asked, and Dale snapped. _Didn't she know what he'd been through? Didn't she know what obstacles were in his way?_

"It wasn't a setback, okay!" he shouted. Then he stared her down. "Why you still here?"

"I'm waiting for you to offer me that." She answered. Dale looked down at his spliff, which was burning slowly down in his hand. Lisa walked round his room, plonked herself down on his bed and took the spliff from his fingers. She then expertly took a drag- it must not have been her first time- and handed it back to Dale.

He took another deep puff and blew the smoke out, making it scatter everywhere, like the particles were spreading out to search for a home. Just for a moment, he wondered what Lenny would think if he knew his best friend and his sister were smoking illegal substances while they were supposed to be asleep. Dale could predict his reaction.

"I wouldn't mention this to Lenny, if I were you. Don't think he approves."

He could hear the laugh in Lisa's voice: "Why should it matter to you what Lenny thinks?"

Dale laughed- the first time since he'd fallen out with El. It wasn't the same, though. He didn't feel as content, like he did when he was around El, and he didn't have those butterflies in his stomach. In fact, Dale felt a little bit on the edge around Lisa.

"Nah, it doesn't."

Lisa stared at him. There was a hint of a smile on her face, and Dale couldn't help but contrast it to El's- Lisa's was smaller- not spreading throughout the face like El's. "So it's okay, then?" asked Lisa.

"Only, Lenny's probably the only real friend I've ever had" _Except from El, _he thought, but he didn't say it. He gave out a small laugh as he thought about his best friend. "Sounds kinda lame, but it's like, when I failed to make the cycling team, he was feeling just as bad as I was."

It was true- Lenny had seemed almost in pain when he'd seen Maggie take him off the team. Dale realised that it didn't matter than his friend had been part of the reason why he'd been taken off the team- Lenny cared about him and that was all that mattered.

"How are you now?" Lisa asked.

Dale answered truthfully. He took another puff before speaking. "Numb."

Lisa laughed. Picking up his spliff, she said: "you're probably smoking too much of this stuff." They both laughed, but Dale had been hoping for a better response for the pouring out of his feelings.

"No, I mean it, it's like I've died inside or something. I keep trying to feel that old buzz, but nothing does it for me anymore. I don't feel anything."

That was it- he'd poured his heart out to a girl he didn't even like that much. This time around, though, the response was much better. Slowly, Lisa leaned in, and all of a sudden Dale felt her lips on his.

It wasn't the girl he'd hoped he'd be kissing tonight, but if he couldn't have El, this was as good as it was going to get. When they both came up for air, Dale kissed Lisa back, harder. There started to be a heat around Dale's body. Not enough to thaw him, but enough to keep him from freezing to death... the kiss became more and more passionate, and soon it would be something else.

* * *

The next morning, after that disastrous night, Dale awoke to his door opening. Lisa lay in his bed still, as she hadn't wanted to move when they'd finished trying to get Dale to work.

He'd never been so embarrassed in all of his life- that bodily function had never not worked before, and Dale had been with his share of girls. _Was it to do with his new diet? _He thought. _Or, was it because Lisa wasn't El. _He hoped it was the first one- he wouldn't be getting El.

Looking up at his door, Dale was shocked to see Lenny standing there.

"That's just great," Lenny said, seeing Dale and Lisa lying next to each other. Before either of them had a chance to say anything, Lenny closed the door with so much more that it made Dale's medals rattle.

"Oh my God," said Lisa. She quickly got out of the bed, hastily put back on her jeans and her cardigan and ran out of the room. Maybe she was going to try and talk to Lenny- not that they'd done anything.

"Shit," muttered Dale as he stared up at the ceiling. The word seemed to sum up the whole situation pretty well. Now it seemed like he was completely friendless. He'd never seen Lenny so angry in all the time that he'd known him, and with all Lenny's ideas about chivalry, sleeping with his sister (or trying to) was not something that Dale thought he'd forgive.

"Shit."

* * *

When Lenny's anger finally came to a head, it wasn't directed at Lisa; it was at Dale.

He'd been standing outside again, not bothering to go to lessons (which was now becoming a regular occurrence) when Lenny had appeared in front of him. Dale had heard him coming down the steps- but he decided to ignore him.

"Proud of yourself, are you?" Dale didn't have to look at Lenny to realise that his ex-friend was angry.

He looked around, and then pointed his hand towards himself. "Sorry, is it me you're talking to?" If he was being honest, Dale was angry at Lenny, too. He loved the guy (he was the best friend that Dale had ever had) but Lenny was part of the reason why Dale wasn't on the cycling team, and Lisa was just as much to blame from last night, but Dale hadn't heard Lenny having a go at her!

"Messing about in class-"

"Smoking dope," Dale interrupted.

"-Smashing Maggie's car-"Lenny seemed to get even more angry as he got to his point "-feeling up girls; that wasn't enough for you, was it? You had to finish the job that you'd started with El, but doing it with my sister?"

At the listing of all his recent mistakes, Dale snapped. Who did Dale think Lisa was? Dale didn't force himself on her- she'd came onto him! And from some of the technique used last night, Dale guessed he wasn't the first guy she'd come onto.

"Nah, nah, nah, Lisa's not that innocent, okay? She knew exactly what she was doing-"

Lennie slid his bag off his shoulder and raised his finger up in a threatening gesture. He looked pissed. "You watch your mouth!"

Dale slammed Lenny's finger down. Who did Lenny think he was, threatening him? Dale got even angrier. Lenny couldn't threaten him- Dale had beaten up a kid in cold blood. He could beat up a scrawny kid like Lenny, no problem.

"You wanna play? Well, go on then! I'll give you a free shot!" He pointed at himself. "Gimme your best shot!"

Lenny stared him down, and like the wimp Dale knew he was, said" "Don't be so pathetic."

"PATHETIC?" Dale pushed Lennie. "You're the one mouthing off, and now you're the one backing down. If I'm pathetic, WHAT DOES THAT MAKE YOU? Huh?"

Dale was fuming. Lenny stared at him. "That's it," Lenny said, picking up his bag. "I'm done."

All at once, Dale's anger, a feeling he hadn't gotten since he'd gone numb, disappeared. Was Lenny leaving him, for real? He'd thought about it before but didn't think it was true.

Why did Dale push everyone away? What was wrong with him?

He had to try and get Lenny back. He couldn't be friendless- he couldn't be alone! "Look, Lenny, mate-"

"I'm not your mate, alright? You're like toxic waste, Dale, contaminating everything that you come into contact with. I don't want you anywhere near me, and I do not want you anywhere near my sister! ALRIGHT? STAY AWAY!" Lenny screamed.

Lenny's words hurt Dale- they were like a knife cutting into his chest. The worst part was, they were true. He'd ruined everything, and everyone, that he'd come into contact with, just like he always did. El, Lisa, Lenny- all ruined because of him.

"Lenny, what's going on?" Asked Maggie, but Lenny had ran off, so she looked at Dale for answers.

Dale didn't answer her; he walked away.

The only thing left for him to do was to smoke and drink himself to oblivion- which he'd do around the party tonight.

**Thanks for reading- the next chapter Dale goes to Rick's party, and it's a dramatic one!**

**The next chapter is basically from my imagination, not from the show. **

**Please review! It would make my day if someone told my what they thought. I see you all reading, and I'm wondering what you all think!**


	6. Chapter 6

Mentally Dale checked the address against the one he had in his head, although he already knew he'd come to the right place. _Newport road, number 17, behind the factory on Second Street. _He'd left the address he'd written down in a drawer, but hadn't thought to bring it. Good thing he'd remembered it. Music blared out of the building, so loud that the very foundations started to shake. Light of all different colours streamed out from downstairs, like there was a club in the centre of the house. All the lights above were on, their rooms probably already in use.

Dale checked his watch. It was 10:20. A little late, but it'd have to do. He'd had to wait for Maggie to go to bed before he could sneak out, and, because of his luck, that had taken longer than usual (Maggie had been dealing with some crisis at school) so Dale had had to wait for longer- so he was late.

Rubbing his hands together to fend against the cold, Dale rang the doorbell. Quickly, door opened. A young woman opened it. She wore a really short dress, high heels, a necklace and had hair that went down to her waist, all teamed with make- up that defiantly wasn't subtle. Dale thought she looked a bit tarty. In her hand she clutched a beer can- it looked like she'd had a few already.

She peered at him. "Who are you?" she demanded.

Under the woman's stare, Dale's confidence crumbled. Had Rick not told anyone that he was coming? It wasn't as if Dale had never crashed a party before, but it would have been nice if Rick had remembered him, especially seeming as he basically had no friends. That was sad. The closest thing that Dale had to a friend now was his drug dealer.

"I'm Dale… Rick's friend. He told me that I could come." The woman peered at him, not convinced. Dale wondered how many kids she had at the house asking to crash her party. "If you just get Rick, he'd vouch for me…"

The woman suddenly shut the door halfway. _She'd going to slam the door on me, _thought Dale, but she didn't. Instead, she called up the stairs.

"Ricky! Some kid's at the door saying you invited him!"

The two stood in silence for a bit before the sound of footsteps could be heard and Rick came to the door. "Dale!" He exclaimed. "Come in out of the cold. Plenty of booze and birds in here to warm you up!"

The woman still wasn't convinced. "Ricky, do you think it's a good idea to let the kid into the party? Look at him, he's basically still in nappies."

Dale had had enough of the stupid woman. He might be younger than her, but parties like these weren't new to him, and he didn't like the way she kept insulting him. "I'm sixteen, actually. And though I'm obviously younger than you, I've been to plenty of these parties before. So don't worry about me."

That did it. The woman widened her eyes and wore an offended expression on her face, whilst Rick burst into laughter. "God! Remind me to mess with you!" He mentioned to go inside, so Dale did.

Inside, the music was even louder. Rick led Dale through, and he saw people lounged out on sofa's and on the floor, some dancing and talking, some drinking and some talking the harder stuff that Rick had talked to him when he'd been getting his weed. It was all here. If anything was going to give Dale a buzz, it was this.

"Wanna drink?" Rick asked over the sound of the music.

"What have you got?"

Rick counted on his fingers. "Larger, beer, Smirnoff, vodka, shots…"

"Beer, thanks."

Rick walked off, and, now in the living room, Dale had a look around. There were some people dancing to the music blaring out, some people drinking and dancing, but in the corner of the room, there were some girls drinking amongst themselves. Spotting them, Dale walked over. He hadn't just come here for drinks and weed.

The night had begun, and if Dale couldn't get El, he'd be dammed sure that he got someone else.

* * *

Lenny was worried. After talking to Lisa about the extent of Dale's malnutrition and the damage that he'd done to himself, Lenny was no longer angry with his friend; he was concerned. Drugs, drinking, feeling up girls- all of it scared Lenny, and he was terrified that Dale was, with no friends, was sinking further and further into trouble.

That worrying was the reason why, on a Tuesday night when he should have been sleeping, Lenny was staring the celling, thinking and worrying into the darkness. _What was Dale going to do next? _If he'd done all these things already, what the hell was Dale going to do next? The thought was terrifying.

After about half an hour of worrying and getting nowhere, Lenny sat up, got out of bed and made a decision: he was going to confront Dale, this time not in anger, but with concern. He would tell him that they were still mates, say that he was sorry for what he had said and tell Dale that he'd help him get help. Because he really was sorry. At the time, the shouting had seemed justified (after all, the guy had tried to sleep with his sister), but after learning all the facts, Lenny thought he might of gone overboard.

Creeping towards his door so he didn't make any noise, Lenny silently pulled open the door and started to walk towards Dale's room. After a few steps and a close call when he walked past Maggie's room, Lenny made it to Dale's room.

Knocking on the door first, Lenny got no answer. That was strange: Dale had been complaining of not being able to get to sleep- that was the whole reason he'd taken Maggie's car out in the first place. After waiting and knocking some more, Lenny heard someone stir in a nearby bed room. Lenny decided he could risk waiting outside anymore; he had to go in.

As he pulled open Dale's door and walked in, Lenny made a shocking discovery.

Dale's bed was empty. It looked like he'd never slept in it either- wherever Dale had gone, it had been a while ago. But Dale had fallen out with most of his friends! _Who did he go out with? Who's he meeting? _Thought Lenny. One thing was for sure, with Dale's current state of mind and behaviour, wouldn't end well, and Lenny was worried.

"Oh, no." Whispered Lennie.

* * *

The party was amazing.

Sometime after Dale had turned up and started to chat to girls, the music had been turned up even louder and more, stronger drinks had been passed around by Rick and his friends. In one arm he clutched a vodka and coke (mainly vodka; it burned the back of his throat as it went down) and the other was around a girl's waist.

The girl's name, from what Dale could hear over the booming music, was Holly, and she had been glued to Dale from the moment he'd walked over and started to talk her and her friends. Seriously- Dale had forgotten how easy it was to pick girls up at these parties. You just walked over, made a bit of small talk, made them laugh, had a few drinks with them, and boom, five minutes later, one of them would take a fancy to him and be on his arm for the rest of the night.

Some of them were as loose as anything, as well. Holly and Dale had already snogged a few times, as had a few of her friends with some of the other guys at the party. Right now, Holly moved her kissing from Dale's mouth and onto his neck- something told him that he wouldn't be going home tonight.

Dale moved his neck so that Holly couldn't get to her neck. She started to pout, so he stopped it with a passionate kiss on the lips. The warmth that Dale had felt with Lisa began again- and for a minute, Dale was reminded of the embarrassing moment he had with her- _nah, that won't happen again, _thought Dale.

Holly's arms moved from his neck and to his legs, his chest, and his face. The kiss was getting passionate- so they stood up and got ready to move the show to one of the bedrooms. Dale knew where they were; he'd seen enough people use them tonight. Anyways, Holly would know where it was, as she was the sister of one of Rick's close friends, Marcus.

In the hallway, the two came up for air. "Alright?" Dale asked, running his hands through Holly's hair.

"Yeah," she answered, breathless. Had Dale or the lack of oxygen done that to her? Dale hoped it was the former "Kiss me again."

So he did. Over and over, up the stairs, and along the landing, until his hands were in her hair, up and down her sides, reaching up her clothes, until that numb feeling was finally on the verge of going away, until- "Dale."

Immediately, Dale broke the kiss of Holly. She frowned and moaned a bit, but he ignored her. Whipping his head around, Dale saw that the person that had spoken was Rick. He'd obviously had a bit to drink, judging from the beer can in his hand, but he still seemed quite sober. Dale wondered why- this was his party, after all. Around him stood some of his friends, who had all hand more than Rick to drink- he could see that from the way that they swayed on their feet.

"Just the guy that I was looking for," continued Rick. "Wanna party with us?"

Dale looked at Holly. He wanted to go in there with her, but he also wanted to hang out with Rick. He was Dale's dealer after all- Dale couldn't get on the bad side of him. Plus, Dale thought it sounded like fun.

"They'll be other girls." Rick gestured around. "This place is knee- deep in 'um!"

Yeah, there would be other girls. That settled it. Leaving Holly behind (which she protested against, obviously) Dale walked over to Rick and all of his mates. "That's it, Dale" Rick grinned. "Wanna party with the real men?"

Dale nodded. That sounded fun.

And it was- Dale didn't think he'd had that much fun at a party in all his life. Of course, before he hadn't been hanging out with a drug dealer and his friends. Those guys knew how to party.

They drank, took weed (although Rick didn't do much drink and didn't take any drugs- he said it "wasn't good to take your own supply") and talked. Ollie, one of Rick's friends, Dale learned, was just back from prison for drug dealing. It was his third offence. The next time, said Ollie, the judge was wasn't going to be so lenient.

"Not going to stop me dealing, though," he grinned. Rick agreed. They said they were providing a service in which people depended on for their standard of living. Dale and the rest of them cheered- Dale didn't know what he'd do without his weed.

Then everyone, excluding Rick took another shot. Dale hadn't seen what it was, hell, he hadn't even seen who had poured it. He thought he heard someone snicker when he downed it, but when he looked around he saw no one smiling. _I'm just being paranoid, _though Dale.

Then they all went onto the dance floor. Suzie, the moody cow of a woman Dale had insulted on his way in, glared at them as they forced her off. She sulked as she walked, glaring at Dale as if it was all his fault.

Rich seemed to notice. "Don't mind Suzie," he told Dale. "A right moody cow if I ever seen one."

Dale was confused. "Why did you invite her if you don't like her?"

Rick grinned. "Ollie over here fancies the pants off her."

"I do not!" Ollie protested, but later on, while they were dancing, (well, more move around and hope for the best in Dale's case) he saw Ollie giving the cow the eye. _How could someone be attracted to that?_

Then the image of El flooded Dale's mind. It was of her when they'd been in science class a few weeks ago. El had been trying to explain this apparently incredibly easy concept of fractional distillation to Dale, without success.

"So, oil with a high boiling point condense at the top?" he'd asked her.

"No," she corrected. "Hydrocarbons, remember hydrocarbons, Dale- well, they're making a comeback- with lower boiling points condense at the top."

"That makes no sense." He'd frowned. "Wouldn't they just stay at the bottom if they're already gases?"

"Gases rise, so the lower boiling point hydrocarbons rise until it's so cold they form a liquid."

Dale hadn't understood, even with El's help. He'd thrown his pencil onto the table, where it bounced off and fell onto the floor. "I'm never going to get this." He'd said.

"You will," El had said. "I'll explain again."

So she had. And again. And once more, for luck. Finally, something along the lines of understanding passed in Dale's brain. When Mr D'Olivera had given out the tests, when Dale had actually bothered to do it, he'd been surprised to find that he's known the answers.

When they'd gotten their tests back, El had gotten top in the class, but she seemed more nervous that Dale about his mark. Dale was touched, especially since she'd helped him already.

When Dale's mark finally got passed round, he'd gotten a high B. A high B! On science! He was over the moon, even if he didn't really feel anything. When he'd told El his mark, she'd given him a brilliant smile.

"That's brilliant Dale. I knew you could do it!" She said. Then she smiled at him, not a normal smile, like you saw people give you when you caught their eye across the room, but a smile with her whole being, from her lips to her eyes. Her lip had curled slightly, so the smile was so big Dale could see a bit of gum. Her eyes had sparked and she'd looked at Dale like she was more pleased and proud of him than he was.

For Dale, it'd felt like they were the only people in a room packed with people. He'd felt that butterfly feeling in the pit of his stomach again, this time for the second time. For one blissful moment, he'd been happy, even when numb.

That was the image he saw now, of El smiling at him with her whole being, her lips slightly curled and her cheeks pushed so high up with the massive smile that it was a wonder that she could see. She'd had a bruise on her cheek, from what he could remember, but it didn't matter. She was beautiful.

He didn't need that memory now. It was just a painful reminder of what could have been, and of what he'd lost.

"You alright, mate?" Rick asked, shaking Dale out of the memory. "You kind of spaced out on us then."

"Fine." Dale nodded, wiping his mouth with his jumper sleeve. Mentally, he pushed the memory away as if it was kryptonite and he was superman. "Think it was that last shot- I don't think that last show agreed with me."

"Only one cure for that, I'm afraid." Rich told him. "Having a bit of a dance and then starting on the booze again!" The rest of his mates laughed, and Dale forced a smile. Rich pushed him to centre of the dance floor- giving Dale an audience to showcase some of him (regretfully bad) dance moves.

They seemed to love it, though, and, for a while, Dale was they life and soul of the party. He danced with a beautiful blonde girl, saw Ollie getting off with that cow Florence and saw Hollie sulking and stealing glances at him from the corner. _Ah, well. Maybe if this blonde isn't up for it Holly still will be._

After that, when dared by Rick, and with everyone cheering him on, Dale downed a whole bottle of this orange, foul smelling liquid. It wasn't that strong, but there was a lot of it. As he drank it, Dale spied Rick glancing and smiling with his friends when everyone gathered in a circle to watch him drink the whole bottle. He didn't think much of it, though. Rick was just having a good time with his mates.

"Down it! Down it! Down it..." They shouted and repeated over and over.

When Dale finished the bottle and held it up empty for everyone to see, everyone cheered.

Then Dale started to feel funny.

* * *

Lenny's head started to spin. This was terrible. _Where was Dale? Was he in trouble? _Knowing Dale and his erratic behaviour, he was. He looked around. Sure enough, he wasn't seeing things- Dale was defiantly gone- there was no doubt about it.

_Oh God, where had he gone? _Lenny checked the bedside clock that Dale had beside his bed. The time read 12:30 at night. _Where was Dale at this time in the night? _Dale defiantly hadn't been to bed- that meant he'd basically been out the whole night. _Where had he gone? _Thought Lenny.

He couldn't ask Maggie for help- she would be furious and Dale would never forgive him- not after he'd let slip about Dale's eating problems- he knew he'd hut Dale by doing that. But he couldn't just wait and do nothing- Dale might be in trouble! And he didn't think he could help Dale on his own, he needed someone else to help him help Dale.

But who? Lisa? No, she'd just laugh, and although she'd be concerned, Lenny doubted that she'd get out of her bed to help him. Darren? Darren was one of Lenny's best friends, so Lenny thought he'd defiantly be up for helping Lenny figuring out where Dale was (as well as getting him back) but Darren wasn't very good friends with Dale, so he wasn't the one that would be able to get Dale to come back if Dale didn't want to leave wherever he was.

So alone it was, then. But before he could go anywhere, Lenny had to figure out where Dale had gone. He looked around the room. Maybe there was some clue in all the mess (Dale's room looked like a bomb had hit it) as to where Dale had gone.

After deciding that he couldn't switch Dale's light on to search as Maggie would wake up and ask him what he was doing, Lenny crept to his room to get his phone and then used it as a torch to search the room.

Early on the search Lenny found nothing that could help him. He found plenty of odd socks, tossed clothes and discarded school books, but nothing that could help him find Dale. Lenny looked in Dale's bedside drawer and was disappointed when he saw nothing- just books, old cables and other random junk. The other drawer looked empty.

Lenny sat on Dale's bed; he felt defeated. He'd looked around all of Dale's room, but had found nothing. He didn't know what else he could. Dale could be anywhere, with anyone, getting into danger with his reckless behaviour and Lenny didn't even know where he was- _how can I help him if I don't know where he is? _Thought Lenny. He sat with his head in his hands.

From his lower angle, Lenny looked at the seemingly empty drawer and saw something that made him sit up. The drawer wasn't empty at all! Using his torch- phone to see, Lenny pulled out all that was in it. There was Dale's supply of pot, which Lenny didn't give much of a look, the paper that he used to roll his spliffs and a piece of paper.

Quickly, Lenny pulled out the piece of paper, smoothed it out and held his phone over it to read what it said. His heart was beating in his chest- this had to be a clue as to where Dale was- it had to be, otherwise Lenny didn't know where else to look.

It was an address. It read: Newport road, number 17, behind the factory on Second Street. 10pm.

_Was that where Dale had gone? _Thought Dale. It had to be- maybe a party or something that Dale had been invited to and he had written down the address of it so he could remember it. Lenny was delighted- he had a place to find Dale!

Crumpling the note in his hand, Lenny stood up. He was going to get dressed, go to Maggie's car (he could drive thanks to a few lessons from Larry when he was younger) and drive to get Dale back. Something stopped him in his tracks, though. As he stood to walk away, Lenny stepped on something. A flare of pain ran through him. _God, that hurt, _thought Lenny.

Picking it up, he saw that it was a phone. Dale must have left it as he left and Lenny hadn't noticed it earlier because it had been covered by Dale's duvet. Immediately, he unlocked it. Lenny thought there might be another clue as to where Dale had gone. Unlocking it (Dale had told Lenny his passcode a while earlier, to use the stopwatch on it- the passcode was the numbers on the name of Dale's bike) Lenny was disappointed. There was nothing that he could see that told him where Dale had gone.

On a whim, he went into the contacts. Nothing jumped out at him; there was no one that he thought could help- no one that he thought could help him persuade Dale to leave the party. _Why would he? It's a no brainer for Dale- party or the schoolhouse? _Lenny knew which one Dale would choose. But maybe if there was someone else, it might be easier to convince Dale.

He continued to scroll. Then he came across a contact that made him stop.

The contact was El.

Lenny knew who she was- he'd seen her and Dale in Mr D'Olivera's science lesson. She was the girl from Havalock that Dale was always eating lunch with, talking and laughing with in science lessons and whenever he saw them- and she was the girl that Lenny knew Dale thought was special. The only problem was, she was also the person that Dale had felt up.

Lenny bit his lip as he thought about what to do. El was probably still very angry at Dale and was very unlikely to help, Lenny thought. But from what Lenny had seen, El and Dale had seemed to have a good friendship- Dale seemed to like her a lot. If anyone could convince Dale to leave the party, it would be El. Besides, if Dale and El had been such good friends, there was a small chance that El might help. And a small chance was better than no chance.

Dale pressed El's name and held the phone to his ear. It was ringing.

**Next chapter is a very dramatic one, and I think it'll be my favourite one so far! Thanks again for reading... it means a lot. **

**Please review, as I'd really like to know what people are thinking. I can see people reading the story, and I can't help but wonder what people think! Are all the characters in character? What do you think of El so far?**

**Thanks again!**


	7. Chapter 7

El was awoken by a ringing.

_Ring. Ring. Ring. _Moaning, El moaned and forced open a gummy eye. Her phone was glowing- someone was defiantly trying to call her. Moaning again, she rolled over and pulled her phone off the charger. She was upset. She'd been having the loveliest dream- she'd gotten to meet Stephen Hawking, but where his wheelchair should have been, there were tentacles.

Picking up the phone, she thought: _who's calling me at this time at night. _It was only around one. She checked the caller ID- and found that the person that was calling her was Dale. What was Dale doing calling her at this time at night? Why was he calling her at all? Was he going to apologise.

El quickly debated whether or not she should pick the phone up. On one hand, she was still incredibly upset at Dale and the fact that he felt her up- it wasn't something that you got over fast. Had Dale thought El had fancied him when she thought they were both friends? But on the other hand, no matter how angry El was, Dale was her friend, and he was in trouble. Big trouble. Fighting, eating disorders and feeling people up. That was defiantly the definition of 'big trouble.'

El wanted to help him. It was the reason why she'd begged her mother to buy yoghurts (her mum hated the things- they reminded her of her worst days with anorexia, so she was very reluctant to buy them) just so that she could pass him one in lunch. It was weird- when Dale ate something or got high on a test, or even just smiled, she felt this strange feeling in her chest. Not pride, something else.

The call was still ringing, but it would finish soon. On instinct, she pressed the green button and held the phone to her ear. She moved into her bathroom so that her parents couldn't hear her on the phone.

"Hello?" She called.

"El!" A voice shouted back to her. However, it wasn't Dale that had called her up, like she had thought. It was Lenny. Why on Earth was Lenny calling her from Dale's phone, at this time at night?

"Lenny… what…" she sat on the toilet and rubbed sleep out of her eyes. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she said, "Why are you calling me? Where's Dale?"

"Dale's in trouble, El. I went into his bedroom to talk to him, and he's not there." El felt a feeling of panic rise up within her at Lenny's words. Dale was in trouble. What had he done? Was he hurt? In that moment, all of the anger she had felt to her friend fall away, like a castle's walls under a siege. She'd been angry, so angry- after all, the boy hadn't even cared about her enough to apologise. He'd felt her up, he'd hurt her up- but what hurt the most was that he hadn't even said he was sorry. Did he simply not care?

But in that moment, none of that mattered. Dale was in trouble. He had an eating disorder, he was going off the rails and was out of control now that he didn't have cycling. El was his friend. _I've got to help him, _she thought.

"His bed was empty," Lenny continued. "It was like he'd never slept in it. I think he's gone to a party, I found this address, but I don't know who it's with, as…" Lenny paused. "As Dale doesn't have friends anymore."

Despite everything, El felt guilty. Yes, he'd felt her up, (and she was still incredibly angry about that) but he was in a bad place, and she'd just dropped him. Maybe if she'd tried to help him, Dale wouldn't be in trouble and they wouldn't be in this mess.

"Are you still there?" Lenny asked. "El?"

"Yeah, I'm here, she said, breaking her silence. "What do you want me to do?"

"I was hoping that you could help me bring him. Help me convince him to come back to the school house, and maybe to get help. I'll drive Maggie's new car."

"What makes you think Dale will listen to me?" Dale hadn't even bothered to apologise to her- why would he listen to her?"

"He lies you, El. I know he does. He thinks you're special- he said so himself."

"Really."

"Really."

El took a deep breath. She was still angry, but she was concerned for Dale. It sounded like he was going from bad to worse, partying in the middle of the night with people, who, by all accounts, Dale hardly knew. The worried part of her won over the part of her that was still angry at Dale. He was her friend, a friend that made her smile with even the monobasic answers he gave her, a friend that gave her a good feeling in her stomach whenever he did well. She cared about him, she cared about him a lot.

How could she not help Dale if he was in trouble? Yoghurts weren't enough- she had to do more.

El sighed. "What time will you pick me up?

Lenny sounded surprised and very happy at the same time. "You'll help?" He asked.

"Dale… Dale's my friend, no matter what's he's done. If he's in trouble, I'll help."

"El, that's brilliant! What's your address?"

She gave him her address. "Pick me up from the bottom of the road. I'll meet you there- it'll be quicker that way."

"Okay- I'll be there in about 15 minutes. Thanks for helping, El."

"No problem." El paused. "I'm still angry at him, though."

"Don't blame you. If you want, I can hold him while you punch him."

"Greatly appreciated, Lenny. I just might."

* * *

Dale was defiantly starting to feel funny. Since he'd chugged that bottle, the whole night had been weird. People had started to slow down, both in their movements and their speech, like he was underwater. He'd also started to feel spaced out; almost like he was in a bubble.

_It's like I'm high, _thought Dale, but he knew he wasn't. He'd only had a few spliffs, and they didn't make him feel like this.

He went into the kitchen, wobbly on his feet, to try and get a glass of water. Maybe that would make him feel better. When he got a glass, he had to dodge around a couple (Ollie and that cow Florence, if he wasn't mistaken) who were going for it basically over the tap. Dale had to move the tap so that he didn't get Ollie's back wet as he got his drink- not that he would have noticed.

Dale drank the water, half of it dribbling down his chin as he drank it whilst walking back into the living room. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Dale decided that the drink hadn't helped- he still felt ill and dizzy.

Suddenly, someone clapped him on the back. Dale spluttered and almost spat the water out.

"Alright, mate?" Rick asked. "You look a bit white. You feeling alright?"

Dale downed the rest of the water. "Feel a bit ill. Do you think it was something in those spliffs?"

"Nah- that stuff was grade A shit. Pure as, nothing but weed and a bit of tobacco."

"You're sure?" Dale asked. He couldn't understand it at all, he'd taken weed loads of times before, and none of it, including some of the stuff that he'd gotten from some pretty dodgy dealers, had made him feel like this. Rick looked like he was moving in slow motion, and he sounded like he was underwater.

"Yeah, mate- positive."

"The weed… there was nothing else in it?"

Rick scratched his head. "I don't know what else to tell you to make you believe me. There was nothing in that weed apart from weed and tobacco. That stuff was fresh from my supplier, clean as a whistle. Made sure it was, seeming as you don't want to try anything harder and all that."

All of a sudden, Dale felt guilty. Here he was, interrogating Rick like a policeman at his own party. The guy was his only friend now, and he was acting like he thought he was a liar. No wonder none of his old friends had wanted to keep on being friends with him. Dale ruined things, like he was ruining things with Rick now. He had to fix things, before it was too late.

"Sorry, Rick. Don't know what came over me, of course it wasn't the weed. I'm probably coming down with something. Sorry, mate."

Rick clapped him hard on the back again, making Dale's eyes bulge, before pulling him into a massive bear hug. "Fine, man. Don't worry about it. If you're not feeling well, sit down over there for a minute," he pointed to a sofa in the corner of the room. "I'll gonna get you a beer. Heineken alright for ya?"

"Yeah, fine." Dale said as he walked over to the sofa and sat down. It helped his head, but not the dizziness, the slow movement and weird hearing. To sum it up, Dale felt absolutely awful.

And it was getting worse.

In the kitchen, Rick got Dale his beer and walked into the hallway to give it to him. Dale didn't see Rick bump shoulders with Ollie (who has stopped snogging Florence) and a few of his other friends. Dale didn't see them laugh and talk about the beer that was in Rick's hand- Dale didn't hear what they talked about. He was too busy, in his ill state, with his head in his hands, thinking about his old friends, especially El, and how he'd messed things up with them.

"How is he?" asked Ollie.

"He'll be ready in a bit," replied Rick. "Just gotta push him over the edge."

Ollie nodded. "Then he'll take the bait?"

"Hook line and sinker."

Back in the living room, Rick gave Dale his drink. "There you go mate, one beer especially for you."

Dale smiled at him gratefully. At least he still had one friend.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, El was standing on the corner of her street. In her hurry to get dressed in the partial darkness and with as little movement as possible so she didn't make too much noise, El was sure what she was wearing wouldn't make anyone at the party swoon. Jeans, a baggy jumper and canvas pumps wasn't exactly a sexy look. Even El knew that.

It had been hard enough to sneak out without her parents noticing, never mind picking a fashionable outfit.

In the middle of the night, the temperature was low and there was a breeze about, making El cold to the core, especially since the breeze was cooling down her damp hair, which she'd taken out of its plaits. Her whole head felt like she'd put it into the freezer.

Rubbing her hands to keep warm, she blew on them and waited for Lenny to arrive. Unintentionally, she started to tap her foot, impatient in waiting for Lenny. She knew he was coming as fast as he could, but she couldn't help but worry more and more as time passed. They had to get to Dale before it was too late.

El had visions in her head or Dale picking a fight with someone and getting his bead kicked in, taking too much or drinking too much of the alcohol or the drugs that would obviously be there and having an overdose, or even worse having to have his stomach pumped or dying. The latter was unlikely, but El knew that there was a small probability that it could happen. Hell, if she had more information, she could work it out.

Chewing on her nail as time ticked by and the sick feeling in her stomach as the bad feeling in her stomach grew, El waited for Lenny. She didn't have to wait long. A few minutes later, the sound of an engine came her way, and shortly after that, a car pulled to a stop in front of her.

It was Lenny, looking just as worried as she felt. His hair was dishevelled, and like her, he'd obviously got dressed in the dark. (Or very quickly.) He gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. As soon as El had gotten into the car and done up her seatbelt, he put the pedal down to the floor and the car shot of like a moving bullet.

The driving was actually really good, apart from the occasional bump that sent both the occupants' heads to the roof of the car. El was too distracted about the fact that Lenny had a car than to question how he was driving it and who had taught him to be so good at it.

"Did Maggie let you use the car?" El asked.

"No."

"So you nicked it?"

"Yeah," Lenny replied. "Dale showed me where she hides her keys and she hasn't moved them since the other car got… stolen."

"By who?" Was there car thieves roaming the area? Should they all be on alert so they didn't wake up and find their cars had been stolen?

"By Dale." Lenny casually replied.

_Actually, that's not surprising, _thought El. _If he's going to feel up girls and get into fights, stealing cars shouldn't be a problem. _"Oh. Right."

On they sped, into the night and closer to Dale. El just hoped they got Dale back, safe and sound, before her parents woke up.

* * *

Dale no longer felt dizzy. People were no longer slowed down and they didn't sound like they were underwater, either. He still felt strange, though, like the world had been sped up and he was viewing it through a happy, calming viewer. Finally, he was happy. He was excited.

He was ready to ty anything.

Dale danced with a few girls, including Holly, who'd come out of her sulk, drank some more (including some drinks that Rick got for him) and did a bit more weed. In his happy, content state, Dale had to agree with Rick; it really was class A stuff.

He couldn't understand why he'd been so hard on Rick. All that the guy had tried to do was welcome him into his home, give him a few drugs, help him chat up a few girls and be his friend. Right now, that was more than anyone else was doing.

Dale didn't understand why he was so uptight all the time. Why didn't he feel like he did now all the time? Calm, happy and content. It was a great feeling as he got another girl's phone number. He pushed it into his back pocket, where it got crushed from all the others that were already in there. Girls seemed to love him when he was like this; they were basically queuing up to dance with him. His lips almost hurt from the kissing that he'd been doing.

Why was he so uptight all the time? The cycling, the numbness, and the way he was with the doctors- none of that mattered, did it? Where had it gotten him? For a moment, Dale thought of El. She'd wanted to be friends with him, even when he was like that. Just for a second, Dale snapped out of it, and he was back to his uptight self. Part of him was happy, but the other part screamed: _no, let me feel that feeling again! _It was like his head was split in half, with the different parts fighting each other. Part of him needed that feeling; part of him craved it.

He pushed the thought of El out of his mind, and the content, cushioning feeling came back.

Dale took a break from dancing with a blonde and went into the kitchen for another drink. In the kitchen were Rich and his mates. Once he had a beer in his hands, he walked over to have a look at what they were up to. They were leaned over the table, like they were concentrating on something.

"Hey, guys, what are you doing?" Dale asked. His voice sounded strange to him. Dale heard something like a snicker, but decided to ignore it.

"What do ya think? Asked Ollie, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Rick gave him a glare, and waved Dale over to get closer to the table. As soon as he looked at what was on the table, it was obvious what the guys were doing- drugs. White powder lay on the table in strips, like it had been cut with a surgeon's scapol. Ollie placed some on a £20 note, rolled it up expertly and sniffed.

"Oh yeah, that's the stuff." He said.

Rick looked at Dale. "You want some?" He seemed to have forgotten the earlier conversation they'd had when Dale had told him that he didn't want to take any hard drugs. It didn't matter, anyway, because Dale had forgotten about the conversation as well.

He felt good, really good. For the first time since maybe before a place on the cycling team, he felt content, relaxed, excited. Why shouldn't he try new thing? Why shouldn't he try drugs? He was having fun with his friends; all he was doing was having a good time. The other, uptight Dale would never have tried drugs. Athletes (or failed athletes, as that was what he was) didn't do drugs! But that person, the uptight, pressured person that liked girls he couldn't have wasn't here anymore. Dale wasn't him anymore- at least not tonight. Maybe this was the best way to prove it.

"Alright," said Dale. Quickly, Rick rolled him up a joint of the new drug, and, just as quick, Dale sniffed it. For a while, he felt no different. Then, after a few minutes, he felt it. All the blood rushed to his ears, and he felt good, really good. He felt confident, fast; he felt like he could do anything.

The night went on. Dale danced with a few more girls, snogged a few more, had fun with his new mates and took more of the drug. Dale learned it was cocaine- he also learned that cocaine made him feel great. About an hour after Dale had had his first cocaine roll up, he started to feel ill again.

Blood was pumping in his ears, there was a ringing sound that came with it and he'd started to feel dizzy on his feet. Maybe he was starting his comedown… no, the effects of the drag would last longer than an hour.

Then it got worse. Dale's whole world got dizzy, swirling around him, making him think that up was down and right was wrong. He swerved, holding the girl he was dancing with (he didn't know her name) for support.

"Are you alright?" She asked, looking at him with mild concern. For a moment, he was reminded of El when he told her he had an eating disorder. There was no care in the stranger girl's eyes, though.

"Yeah, fine," he replied. Had his vice always been that slurry? It didn't even sound like his own. Unlinking arms with her, he made his way over to the sofa at the far end of the living room. _Had it always been that far away? _Dale thought. It looked like he'd need a compass to make his way across. "Just need to sit down-"

Dale made it halfway across the room before he fainted, slamming into the hard wood floor.

Rick, who'd been on the other side of the room, waited for shocked silence before he spoke. "Bring him upstairs," was all he said, before leaving the room. Dale was carried, eyes drooping, head rolling and his whole body limp, from the room.

**I thought this chapter's ending was quite dramatic, wasn't it? Next chapter, all will be revealed. Rick's up to more than just trying to be Dale's new best friend. Sorry if you thought more would happen in this chapter, but I got to the end and realised that if I wanted to make my deadline for this chapter, I'd have to condense it- and I didn't want to do that. Sorry if anyone's disappointed- it's all coming new week- promise!**

**Thanks so much for everyone that reviewd- they made my day. **

**Please, again, review and tell me what you think! What do you think of El?**


	8. Chapter 8

"Turn right here!" El shouted. She was holding an old map (the things you find stuffed down the back of car seats, really…) and was looking at it and giving Lenny directions by the light of her phone. They'd been driving for around fifteen minutes, and after one wrong turn down a very narrow street, El was getting agitated- she and Lenny were well past worried by this point; they were on their way to hysteria.

_What if they didn't make it to Dale in time? _She thought.

As if he'd heard her, Lenny put his foot down on the accelerator.

"Left here!" She shouted, and after that sharp turn, they were rushing down a street packed with terraced houses. This was the street they needed. It looked a bit like the set of EastEnders, if EastEnders was set in Scotland. At this time of night, it was mostly quiet, apart from a few houses enjoying the night.

"17, 19, 21, 23- stop here!" Quickly, Lenny stopped the car fast enough to give them whiplash. "This is it," El said. They both peered out of the car windows. The looks confirmed it- a party was defiantly being held here, one so loud they could have been able to find it without the house number.

Lenny and El didn't hesitate. They undid their seatbelts and raced out of the car, almost running in the rush to get to the door. Lenny made it to the door first, ringing the doorbell which ended in a long, high- pitched shrill. Both El and Lenny stood outside the door, their bodies absolutely freezing but not being able to feel the cold due to the adrenaline pumping in their veins. El was excited, but nervous. _Dale was here- they were going to help him. _But what if he didn't want to be helped? What if he told them to leave; what if he'd moved on? What if-

"Hello?" A woman called. El had been so deep in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed the door opening. It took a moment for the woman to notice them, though, probably because she's obviously had a lot to drink. She swayed on her feet slightly, which was worrying due to the high heels she was sporting, and stunk of alcohol. It made El's eyes water. "What do you want?"

"We- uh…" El's words ran out, making her swallow, hard. The woman was looking at her with a beady state, which was unnerving and off putting. She was dressed a bit tartly, El thought, with a very short dress and very high heels. El hoped she didn't say it out loud. She didn't know what happened sometimes- it was like she didn't have a filter, saying the first thing that popped into her head, even if it was mean. El didn't know if she meant the nasty comments or not. After all, they were in her head. Maybe everyone was mean inside, but just didn't open the door to those thoughts for everyone to see.

Lenny tried again. "We're… we're friends of Dale Jackson's" At the mention of his name, the woman frowned and her eyes narrowed.

"The little git that called me a cow?"

Lenny and El looked at each other. That sounded like Dale, alright.

"Probably," Lenny said. "Anyway, he said we could come that we could come, as the party's so good. So, if we could just…"they tried to edge around the woman to get in, but she blocked their path, moving pretty quickly for someone so drunk.

"Why would we want more kids at our party? It's late enough as it is…" she checked the clock on the wall in the hallway. "12... 1...it's 2 in the morning. Isn't it past you bedtime?" she sniped.

"We're actually not here to party-"

"We're here to come and get Dale. He sounded weird on the phone, so we're coming to get him." El half lied. Like they had time for this, arguing with this woman!

The woman decided for a bit, before moving. "Fine," she said. "Just get him out."

"Thanks," El said, as Lenny raced in the door. They walked into the hallway. Music was baring out, colours of all shades landing on the walls. Both of them looked around. "I'll see if he's upstairs," Lenny said. "You check if he's downstairs."

El nodded. The search had begun.

* * *

Upstairs, Dale was starting to come around. He was lying on a bed that was laden with people's coats. One guy was picking through them, feeling pockets and taking any valuables. Dale, who was feeling a bit woozy, checked his pockets for his phone. _Shit, _he thought. It wasn't there. He tried to think back- had he or hadn't he had his phone when he'd left the school house? Dale didn't remember using it when he was out, and took that to be a good sign. He hoped he'd just forgotten it or something- he'd have to look for it when he got back.

_Shit! _Dale thought again. He had to get back to the school house. What time was it? He'd just woken up- how long had he been asleep for? Dale went to go check his watch, but then remembered he'd left it at home and put his arm down.

His movement attracted the attention of the pick pocket, who, after finding Dale awake and witness to his stealing, checked one more pocket and took a phone, before leaving. He gave Dale the signal of a finger on the lips- meaning, _don't tell anyone what you saw. _

Soon after he left, the door burst open. Dale's head flew to the door, but when he saw it was just Rick, he relaxed. He sat up in the bed, head in his hands, groaning.

"Went a bit overboard, didn't ya?" Rick smiled.

"You could say that."

"All in the name of fun, though, so it doesn't count. Listen, Dale," Rick said, crossing the room and sitting on the bed, so close that Dale could feel the warmth radiating off his skin. Dale rubbed his hands together, unsure of unsure of what to do.

"We're friends, right?" Rick asked.

Dale was a bit startled by the question, but it was the question the answer to which he'd been telling himself all night, so, for the first time, he said those words out loud. "Yeah, we are." The other part to that sentence was silent. _You're my only friend, _it said. For one crazy second, Dale wondered whether or not Rick could hear it.

"Good!" Again, Rick smiled. It was a wide smile, one that, Dale thought, showed a bit too much gum and teeth than a smile should. "Well, Dale, mate- it feels a bit strange asking ya, but seeming as we're mates and like, would you be willing to help me out?"

Dale frowned, not getting it. "With what?"

Rick splayed his hands, moving them apart, as if to engulf the entire room. "All of this, of course! This house, this party-"He looked directly at Dale now, his eyes boring into his skull. "-you are enjoying the party, right?"

Dale nodded.

"Thought you would," Rick continued. "Thought to myself, as soon as I decided to throw this party, the guy I need to invite is my friend Dale. Real good connection we have, me and you. Don't you think?"

Again, Dale nodded. It was strange; it was like he couldn't talk. It was as if his lips were glued together.

"Yeah, and seeming as me and you are such good mates, you wouldn't mind helping me out, would ya?" He saw Dale's face- one of confusion. "Yu know, nothing terrible, just helping with my income." Dale wasn't sure. What sort of jobs was Rick talking about? Then the man said the thing that clinched it. "All my friends help me."

Rick was Dale's friend- his only friends- so how could Dale refuse him?

He couldn't.

"Yeah, sure, I'd be happy to help however I can."

"Great!" Rick shouted, jumping off the bed. "I'll go get us some beers to celebrate!"

"Uh, Rick, don't you think I've had enough-"

"Nonsense, man! You can never have enough beers, that's what my old man said."

Rick bounded out of the room. Dale sat in silence. The numb feeling was still there, and he was starting to wonder if it'd ever go away. Maybe he'd just have to learn to live with it; his very own terminal disease.

All of a sudden, he heard some footsteps on the stairs. Was that Rick already? That was quick. "Rick?" He called. There was no answer, so Dale listened again. The footsteps were lighter than Rick's heavy, strong footsteps- it was someone else. Dale figured they'd go somewhere else, and they did. The footsteps went everywhere, in fact, opening every room on the upstairs landing. There were some squeals and some apologies.

Dale froze. He recognized that voice.

By the time his footsteps had walked over to his room, Dale was waiting for them. Sure enough, the head poking round the door was familiar.

It was Lenny.

"Dale?" Lenny called.

_How had he found him?_

* * *

El was having some trouble.

Once Lenny had gone upstairs, she'd started to search downstairs for Dale. The music was so loud it made her ears hurt; most of the people here wouldn't have good hearing by the time the party finished. It was a song with a heavy beat, so she bopped her head to it as she went along.

In the living room, she had no luck. A quick scan told her that Dale wasn't in there, but the music was so loud that she couldn't ask anyone where he was or whether they'd seen him. El tried shouting, but people kept dancing like they hadn't heard her.

So she moved on into the kitchen. Here it was quieter. There were a few people snogging, chatting (sometimes both) and one man rooting through the fridge, looking for something. El went around, like she'd done in the living room, asking if anyone had seen Dale. There had to be someone!

Alas, she got no answers. People either told her that they'd never heart of a guy called Dale, or didn't answer her, instead giving her vacant, distant stares. El suspected that they'd had something. _What if, _she suddenly thought, _we find Dale and he's off his head? _

El had no experience with stoned people (apart from a few girls at her old grammar school- but not many people had taken anything), she'd only taken it once, as she didn't like the numb feeling it gave her, and a stoned Dale would be difficult to explain to Maggie.

She went to go ask that man rooting through the fridge whether he'd seen Dale- someone had to- when she noticed that he'd gone. Weird. She hadn't heard her leave. _Oh well, _thought El, as she made her way back into the living room to see again whether anyone could give her answers.

The music was quieter now, so she could talk to people. El went around and asked a few people if they'd seen Dale, without really getting anywhere. Then she asked one guy, with spiky hair and sharp, shrewd features, dancing with the blonde woman from the door, and she got something more than an answer.

"Where you from, then?" The guy asked. "Not from around here, that's for sure! I thought people only talked like that on the telly! Didn't you, babe?" The blonde nodded.

"Look, I'm in a bit of a rush-"El started.

"Oy!" The guy yelled over his shoulder, cutting her off. "Matt! Come listen to this girlie. Listen to her poncy accent! All Downton abbey- like!"

The guy was obviously at least drunk. He was swaying as she stood with his girlfriend and was volatile, jumping from one thing to the next, mumbling to himself. Then his friend- Matt- came over.

"Say something, then." The first guy told her.

"I'm actually just looking for my friend, so if you'd just-"She tried to move past them, but they blocked her path.

"She does! She does, alright. Sounds like she should be going to Cambridge and enjoying-"The second guy put on an accent, doing a poor imitation of El's posh, oxford accent- "a cup of spiffing tea!" The two guys fall about laughing, like El's accent was the funniest thing ever. They still blocked El's path, though.

Soon, more people started to crowd around them to see what the laughing was all about. This wasn't helping El at all- it was getting too noisy to ask questions and she couldn't see Dale in the crowd. _Where was he? _El mentally screamed.

"Look, I really need to find my friend, so would you just…" El tried to push past the men in front of her, but they pushed her back. "Just move, I can't get out…" she tried again, but, yet again, the men pushed her back. Were they having a laugh? They were blocking her path.

El lost it- the filter stopped working again. She was irritated, worried and more than anything she wanted to find her friend. Filtering her thoughts came naturally to other people, but not with El. It was something that she'd had ever since she'd started muttering her first "mummy's and daddy's." She'd lost count the number of times her parent's had chastised her for saying things that were on her mind- things that were mean.

But El had been trying- trying so hard. Thinking of every sentence before it left her mouth, making sure that it was something that no one could take offence to. (Or tried to- sometimes she didn't know somethings could be offensive to some people- it was part of the problem.) It was exhausting, and El had had enough.

These men were stopping her find her friend- her damaged, troubled friend that needed her help- she couldn't bite her tongue any longer.

"Move!" She shouted at the top of her lungs."

The men stopped and stared at her. They looked angry. El was closer to them now, smelling that they both stank of alcohol. The first guy, who looked the angriest, stepped forward and looked El in the eye. "What's your problem, then, Miss Lah-de-dah?"

"My problem is you."

The first guy threw a punch at El. She ducked, and the punch missed- instead it slammed into a guy standing behind El. He shouted in surprise, put his finger to his nose and retrieved them, bloody. The man was tall, tattooed and tough- looking; the guy looked like the type you wished you didn't meet in a dark alleyway at night.

The guy looked furious. He sized the first man up, then punched him square in the face.

A fight began. The first guy's friends, after the punch landed, started to fight the tattooed man's friends. Punches flew, insults took flight and the whole room descended into chaos. El tried her best to duck out of the violence, weaving a path through the writhing bodies to a corner of the room.

There she stood, watching people punch each other, shouting and swearing over the music that still came out of the speakers. As she watched the scene bloody in front of her, El cursed herself for not being able to filter her speech. It shouldn't be that hard, should it? No. It shouldn't. But as she thought about that, Dale came into her head. It wasn't just worry- she missed him- and she hoped they found him soon.

* * *

"Dale?" Lenny gasped as he entered the room. Maybe he was surprised that he'd found Dale after all.

"Lenny?" Dale asked. What was he doing here? More to the point, how was he here? Dale hadn't told anyone where he was going, leaving when everyone else was asleep as to avoid suspicion. How had Lenny known where Dale was? How had he gotten here?

Confused and more than a bit surprised, Dale asked a question that seemed to sum up all of his questions. "What are you doing here?" His voice sounded a bit angry, which Dale guessed he was. Lenny hadn't given a toss about him earlier when he'd been screaming at him, but now suddenly he was turning up, uninvited, to a stranger's house to talk to him? The guy was all over the place. What was he going to do- shout at him again? Dale didn't know why he was so bothered- it wasn't like he'd feel anything, anyway. He never felt anything anymore.

"You need to come back to the school house." He said. Dale almost laughed.

"No chance. Why should I?"

Lenny came forward, as if to put his hand on Dale's shoulder, but Dale shooed him off. They weren't' friends anymore. Dale had new friends; Rick and all the gang- he didn't need Lenny. At least that's what he told himself.

Lenny took a step back, retracting his hand and pretending not to be hurt by his former friend's reaction. He covered his hurt with words. "I couldn't sleep, so I went into your room to talk to you. I feel really bad about what I said the other day, Dale."

Dale stayed silent. He stared at his hands.

Lenny continued. "You weren't there, and I got worried. I thought that you were in trouble, so I had to find you, so I had a look around your room-"

"You looked round my room?" Dale shouted. "Lenny, you had no right-"

But Lenny ignored him. "And I found a note in one of your drawers and it had the address of this place on it, so I decided to come and get you. But I knew I wasn't gonna be enough to convince you on your own, so I found you phone and called the one person I know you'd listen to."

Dale looked up, annoyed that Lenny didn't trust him to go out on his own (really, all he'd done was cash one car that wasn't even nice anyway) and had been through his room. That was private! More that, though, Lenny was annoyed that Lenny thought there was just someone who'd get him to come back when he was having the time of his life. "Who's that then?"

Lenny paused. He seemed to be planning out his words. "El's here, Dale. She's downstairs, but I don't know where's she'd gotten to-"

"El's here?" Dale asked, in shock. El was here? Dale thought that after the feeling up incident, she's never want to talk to him again. But she'd come to help him when Lenny told him he's needed it. Did that mean she forgave him? He didn't know. He didn't even know if he deserved forgiveness, but that feeling stared up in his stomach again, that tingling, warm feeling he got when he thought of El. This time, he didn't shoo it away.

Lenny nodded. "Uh- huh, she said-"But Dale would never know what El said, because, at that moment, the door burst open and Rick barged in.

"Two bottles of-"He began, before noticing Lenny.

"Who's this then?" Rick asked. "Don't remember asking you to come."

Before Lenny could say anything, Dale spoke. "This is Lenny. He's my…" he didn't know how to finish.

"Friend." Lenny did it for him. "I'm his friend."

"Friend?" Rick questioned "Is this true?"

Dale stared at his hands. He didn't like the way Rick was talking- it was vicious and rough and wasn't very nice. T was nothing like how Rick had spoken to him before.

Dale nodded.

"Nah, mate. Think you got it wrong. Dale over here don't have any other mates."

Dale looked at his hands. It stung, but it was true, wasn't it?

"Excuse me?" asked Lenny.

Rick crossed the gap between him and Dale. He put his arm around him, filling Dale with this strange feeling that he was trapped.

"Dale came to this party alone. Didn't have anyone with him, though he could of brought them if he wanted. "He smiled- a shark's smile. "The more the merrier! But he didn't, and I've never heard him talk about any mates. Anyway, what do you want with him? You guys don't look jolly."

Dale was starting to become a bit scared- he didn't know what Rick was going to do next.

"I've come to get Dale to come back home."

Rick laughed. "But he doesn't want to! Look at him, he's having a great time, aren't you, Dale?" Rick bumped shoulders with him. Dale nodded.

"Told you so! What are you anyway, a boyfriend that can't let go? You're obviously pretty desperate, if you've come here just to get him back- he didn't invite you, so he obviously doesn't want you around!" Rick was getting more admitted now, standing up and getting closer to Lenny, whilst still quite close to Dale.

Rick looked back at him. "Tell him, mate. You don't want him around, do you?"

Dale's heart started to beat in his chest. He looked at Lenny. His, well, Dale didn't know quite what to call him (were they friends yet?) stood a fair bit away from him, looking worried. He clawed at the skin below his nail, like Dale knew he always did when he was upset or nervous. (The whole asking out Kerry thing had been very nerve- wracking on Lenny.) He thought about what he'd be gaining if he went downstairs and left- El, Lenny; friends.

But he was scared of what would happen if he left- he was scared of Rick and what he might do. Would he even let them leave?

A crash sounded from downstairs, breaking Dale's thoughts.

"Well?" Rick demanded. Dale gulped and wished the ground could swallow him up. He took a deep breath.

"Who the fuck do you think you ae, Lenny? We're not mates- you told you didn't want to be when you screamed your head off at me when we last talked- remember? Now you come here, with my new mates, begging for me to come back, like nothing's happened and we're still mates? No- mate- I knew you were pathetic- but not that pathetic. Leave. Now." Lenny stood there, still as a statue.

"Go!" Dale screamed, empathising his point by raising his arm towards the door.

But still Lenny stood, staring Dale down, hurt in his eyes. Dale felt guilty wash through him like posion; the first thing he'd felt in weeks. But this was no time for celebration. There was something else in Lenny's eyes, though.

It was resolve.

Lenny took a big step forward. "I don't believe you. Dale, you're just saying what he wants to hear! I know-"He stopped and then started again. "I know I haven't been the best friend. But don't be so stupid! Don't do anything stupid."

"It's a bit late for that, don't you think?" Dale told him.

Lenny looked around, nervous. "Just come back to the school house. Dale- please." He took another step toward him. "I was just upset about Lisa. I didn't mean anything that I said to you. Alright? I'm sorry."

Dale put his head in his hands.

"Look mate, it don't matter that you're sorry. Dale over here don't want anything to do with you. Right, Dale?" Rick looked at him.

Dale said nothing, lifting his head out of his hands. Instantly, he accepted Lenny's apology. In fact, he felt guilty about calling him pathetic- it was something, after that apology, Lenny obviously wasn't. That apology must have taken real guts- it sounded straight from the heart, like Lenny had realised his wrongs and actually sounded sensier when he said sorry for them. As well as that, it must have been hard to say sorry when you knew that the person that you were saying it too was in the wrong too.

Dale knew he was in the wrong- he felt guilty. But there was something else, too- happiness. For the first time since El had gone away and since he'd fallen out with Lenny, Dale had friends again.

Rick was not happy.

When Dale didn't answer him, he turned angry. He smiled again, this time looking like a shark that had smelled blood.

"It don't matter anyway. Dale over here ain't going anywhere."

Dale felt fear rise up in his throat. "What do you mean?" He asked.

Rick came over and wrapped his big, brutish arm around him. "What was it you said?" Then, in a high pitched impression of Dale's voice, he spoke: "Rick, oh Rick. Of course I'll help you with your deliveries! I'd be happy to do it, as you're my only friend."

"I never said that."

Rick waved him off. "I'm rephrasing it, mate. Point is, you're mine you said you'd do something, and you will. I don't like people who go back on their promises."

Dale looked at Rick. Looked him straight in the eyes. This man was frightening. He looked calm, but it was the type of calm you saw in a solider just before they fired their gun. If they were good, you never knew just where they were aiming. That's how Dale felt about Rick. What was the man going to do next?

But Dale wasn't afraid- he felt brave.

"I'm not doing that."

That did it. Rick stormed over to him and grabbed him by the hair, lifting him up. The pain was excruciating, and for a while, it was all that Dale could think about. All he could feel was his pulse and the pain. The pain the pain the pain. Beating in time with his heart. Slowly, though, he came round.

Lenny leaped forward. "What are you doing?" He cried. "Put him down!"

Rick just laughed. "What you gonna do, kid, wet yourself and call you mummy? Nah, I don't think so. Do you know who I am? Do you know what I am?" He started at Dale.

"You're a dru-"He faltered. "A drug dealer."

"DAMN RIGHT I AM!" Rick screamed. "A bloody good one, too. The best in the business, me, with the best shit to sell. That means I only employ the best. And you, Dale, are the best. I need a delivery boy for the business, and who's better for the job than an athlete? So I thought to myself, that Dale lad is a cyclist, ain't he?"

"Well-"Rick thought. "He was, before it all went tits up. But, that don't matter, does it? Still got a strong athlete's body- perfect for making deliveries to my customers with. And how I've tried! Took weeks of deliveries to earn you trust. Words here and there led to conversations, conversations led to invitations and invitations led to here." Rick spread his arms out wide. "Here, you had a good time, drowned your lonely arse in my friendship, whilst having a bit of unintentional fun."

Dale was confused. "What do you mean?"

"That drink you downed mad you feel a bit funny, didn't it? That's what orangeaid laced with painkillers, depressants and enough pills to sink a battleship will do to ya. Then I was there, to comfort you; all to get you to agree to be my new delivery boy."

Rick smiled. "You gotta admit, pretty clever, huh?"

The huge amount of information had made Dale feel numb- there was too much of it to process. He knew he'd feel something later- that had been fixed now, but for the moment, he welcomes the cold feeling. For the first time in weeks, there was nothing, not even loneliness or regret, to get in his way.

"I'll never help you." He growled.

"Ah, but you will, unless you want my men to track you down and _make _you help us."

That did it. Dale saw red. The anger was brilliant, making his brain work a million miles an hour, going through everything he needed to do. He hadn't felt this angry since he'd smashed up the picture of him and his bike.

"Lenny, RUN!" Dale screamed. Before any of them had time to react, though, Dale, still being held by his hair, with his strong athlete's (ex, Dale reined himself) body, lifted his knee to Rick's chest- the drug dealer was a bit dazed from Dale's shout- and pushed with all his might, smashing his full weight, his light, but still too heavy weight, into Rick's ribs.

Dale heard a crack, and the dealer went sailing across the room, landing in a heap. Before long though, he was groaning. Rick had let go of Dale's hair when he'd been kneed, so, wincing at the pain in the head and the bald patch that was surely there, Dale stood up and started to bold.

"LENNY RUN!" Dale screamed again at his friend, and together, they ran from the room, the dealer groaning and moving behind them. Before long, he'd be after them. With all the trouble Rick had gone to get Dale- something he couldn't quite believe- he'd be coming after them, for sure.

The pair bolted from the room.

"Where's El?" Dale screamed, the music getting louder. There were sounds of something else, too.

"Downstairs somewhere!" Lenny screamed back.

_That was helpful_, thought Dale.

They made it downstairs, where chaos reined. Dale thought back to the loud noise he'd heard when they were upstairs; well, now he knew what had caused it.

All around them, people were fighting. Punches were being thrown, insults were being shots over the music, and injuries were everywhere. There were people with broken noses, snapped bones, nose bleeds and black eyes, most of them still fighting like they were freshly rested.

Dale dragged his eyes off the fighting and stared to look for El- he hoped she wasn't hurt. They had to find her quickly, though, as Dale could hear some grunts and footsteps behind them- Rick would be after them before long.

"There!" Lenny shouted, pointing at a corner of the room. Two women were fighting, pulling on each other's hair and scratching at the other's faces- but between them, there was a girl trying to pull them apart. At first, Dale wasn't sure it was El because he couldn't see her face, but then he heard the girl's voice.

"Stop it! Break it up!" The voice shouted.

Dale grinned. A massive grin that felt strange on his face because he hadn't smiled like that for ages. Now, he couldn't seem to it.

"El!" He screamed over to her. Lenny waved his arms to try and get her attention.

El turned around. Across the room, she saw Dale smiling and Lenny waving his arms, and she too smiled- an enormous one that stretched across her entire face, showing a bit too much gum but lighting up her eyes and face. Oh, how Dale had missed that smile.

She ran over, making move motions with her hands. "Let's go, let's go- hello Dale- we've got to go!" she panted.

"What happened?" Lenny asked, staring at two men punching each other.

"My accent caused more distress than I was hoping." Was all El would say. Dale could tell there was more, however, but he didn't push it.

Lenny looked as if he was going to ask a question, but, suddenly, footsteps could be heard on the stairs. "Stop them!" Rick screamed.

They ran.

* * *

At the car, Lenny fumbled for the keys.

"Come on!" Dale shouted, looking over his shoulder.

"El, do you know how to drive?" Asked Lenny after he'd unlocked the car.

"Um… a bit! Why?" El looked petrified.

"You're closest to the door, and we don't have much time!"

"But what about Dale?" El tried.

"He's under the influence. Catch!" Lenny threw over the keys, and El sighed. The keys clattered to the floor, and El scrambled to pick them up. Dale's nerves went over the edge- this was wasting time they just didn't have.

He and Lenny scrambled into the car, Lenny checking that Dale had his seatbelt on. Of course he did- Dale wasn't going to be that stupid anymore. Finally, El managed to pick up the keys. She got into the car, put them in and the engine roared into life.

"Quick!" Lenny screamed.

El floored the accelerator, and they were on their way away from that dark chapter of Dale's life that had started when he'd failed to get on the cycling team. Dale decided, right there and then, that he'd never get stuck in that dark place again.

Of course, some promises are hard to keep.

* * *

Later, it became clear why El hadn't wanted to drive. She was terrible. Dale wanted to be kinder, but there was no other way of putting it. Gifted in many areas El might be, driving was not one of them. The ride was bumpy- so bumpy. Dale lost count how many times he hit the roof, and they swerved all over the place. Once, when there was a red light coming up, El drove right past it.

"Red light!" Lenny screamed, almost hysterical. "You just ran a red light!"

"It's fine," El told him. "They're voluntary."

Dale laughed. Lenny didn't. "They're not. Oh god, if Maggie gets a speeding ticket she's gonna kill me."

"Maggie's going to murder you over a fine? Weird, she always seemed such a wee nice lady..." Dale joked.

Lenny scowled at him until they swerved partly off the road- then he had to clutch the side of the car for dear life.

"Sorry!" El called back. "My bad!"

2

A few minutes later, they stopped at a garage. Lenny' s excuse was that he was going to get some water for Dale to get the rest of the drugs out of Dale's system and to help him feel better, bur Dale knew better. He'd just needed to get out of the car and have a break from El's driving.

Speaking of the driver herself, El was directly in front of him, tapping the steering wheel. She hadn't said one word to him since the party, and although she'd come to his aid when he'd needed her, he got the hunch she still hadn't completely forgiven him. Who would blame her?

In the car, with the adrenaline in his veins fading, Dale's racing brain finally got chance to go through the events of the party. Rick. _Shit. _How could he have been stupid? Of course someone like a Rick- a drug dealer for God's sake- wouldn't want to just be friends with a sixteen year old for the fun of it. It was obvious, really.

That didn't help the betrayal hurting like he'd been stabbed. Multiple times in the heart.

He'd really liked Rick. He'd been there when Dale had had no one- or thought he'd had no one- and had made Dale feel better about himself. His problems hadn't seemed so big- at that party, it had seemed like all the problems that Dale had- his eating disorder, his failed cycling career, El- had become so small they weren't worth bothering about.

Now that that was over, they came crashing over his head.

Dale felt a frog in his throat, and before he could stop himself, he let out a sob. Then suddenly, like something had become dislodged inside of him, he couldn't stop. A tear ran down his cheek, then another, then another. His nose started to run, too.

Dale heard the door slam. He looked up. The driver's seat was empty- El had left when she'd heard how pathetic Dale was being.

Then, unexpected, the door next to him opened, and El slid next to him.

"Oh, Dale." She whispered. "What's wrong?"

"I thought he was my friend." Dale sniffed, still crying.

El gave him a confused look.

"Rick," he told her. "This guy at the party- well, the guy who invited me. I thought he really wanted to be my friend, but he was lying." A tear slid down his face. "He never wanted to be my friend at all."

"Oh, Dale." El whispered again, her voice softer this time, barely heard. For some reason, it made Dale cry harder.

Then El did something unexpected. She shuffled closer to him, then wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug. Instinctively, Dale leaned into it. She wasn't bony, like lots of girls, and Dale relaxed his head against her chest. El smelled like mints and freshly washed clothes- better than he'd imagined. The feeling that he'd had before came back, stronger than he'd had it before. El's warmth radiated into Dale's body, warming him from the inside. He felt safe.

Then El leaned away.

She didn't go far, though. Reaching up, El put her hand on Dale's cheek. Electricity seemed to come of her fingers and onto Dale's skin, like static, making him tingle. A tear rolled onto her hand, but she rubbed it off, like it had never been there in the first place.

Dale felt his tears stopping as the frog in his throat went away- like El had magical away his sadness with a bit of static electricity. El wasn't done, though. With her other hand, El pulled her jumper over her hand with her fingers and gently reached up and wiped Dale's nose with it, gently as not to hurt him.

Then she put her hand down, but kept the first on his cheek.

Why are you here El?"

El frowned- "what do you mean? Lenny rang me up, I came to help you-"

"Yeah" Dale cut in. "I know, but why? I- I felt you up, I beat up that kid in front of you- you should be staying away from me!"

El was quiet for a long time. Dale thought that she might rethink her choice, decide that he was a horrible person that deserved everything he got and she never should have helped him in the first place. That's what Dale would have thought, anyway.

"I don't really know." She admitted, looking down as if not knowing something was a crime. "When Lenny rang me up, I don't know, I was worried, Dale. You're my friend, and I worry about you, so it's going to take more than a feeling up to get rid of me." El offered him a weak smile, which he returned. "You were in a bad place, so don't be too harsh on yourself. And," she whispered. "I'm kind of flattered that you fancied me enough to try and cop afield."

Dale looked down, his cheeks burning.

"Clear something up for me, though."

"What?"

"Why didn't you just ask me out?"

Dale looked up, staring at El in the darkness. "You would have said yes?" Excitement and nerves filled his stomach at the same time- it was an odd feeling.

"I would have liked the choice."

Dale let that settle over him for a few moments. It wasn't a yes. But it wasn't a no. It was a maybe. He guess he'd just have to find out.

Speaking of the future, Dale decided that he's have to make some decisions- he was done with acting the way he had been. "What are I going to do?" He whispered.

"You're going to get better." El told him, so girly that it supposed him at first. "And when you do, everyone, including you, is going to be amazing at what you're capable of."

Dale shook his head- it wasn't as simple as that. El's mum was an example of that. She's been fighting with anorexia since El was born, and she still wasn't right. What hope did Dale have?

"I can't" He said.

"Yes, you can! Look, I'm not saying it'd be easy, but you can do it. You can get support, talk to people me qualified than me and Lenny- Dale, you can get your life back on track."

Again, Dale disagreed. There was a pause before he spoke: "Cycling was my life and they took that away from me." It was true- that was the root of the problem, wasn't it?

"I think you did that to yourself."

Dale thought that over. "Maybe."

"No one could have beaten you," El spoke. Dale frowned at her. "The papers did a segment on who might win your race- you were the frontrunner by a mile."

Dale shook his head. "I'm a loser, El."

"No, you're not. You just need to get this sorted out."

"And then I can cycle again?"

"Yes, when you're better."

Dale gave a small, pitiful laugh. "You make it sound so simple."

"Why shouldn't it be?"

Dale thought that over whilst Lenny came back. _Why shouldn't it be? _Those words stayed with him, but perhaps what stayed with him more was the belief that El had in him. He had to get this sorted out- and he could do it.

So, after they dropped off El at four in the morning (after giving Dale another hug- he wished he could have had more) Dale and Lenny returned the car without a scratch- even with El's driving- snuck upstairs and pretended to be asleep and waited for day to come.

When it did, Dale went down to breakfast and told Maggie that he wanted to go somewhere that would help him get better. He could tell she was relived- who wasn't- that he was finally taking control of his life, and told him that Mr Fitzgerald would help find him a place.

Dale was going to get better. He'd make sure of it.


	9. Chapter 9

Today was the day that El had been looking forward to: a science competition taking place at Waterloo Road. Well, looking forward to probably wasn't all that correct. Excited? Yes. Fearful? Obviously. Terrified of cracking under the pressure? Absolutely.

The competition had been the idea of Mr Fitzgerald to bring the schools closer together as the merger came ever closer. Also, it was a chance to get some much needed press attention after the bike bank disaster- to show the world that Waterloo Road wasn't as terrible as people (namely from Havalock) were making it out to be. As well as this, it was a chance, said Mr Fitzgerald "to show the world that Waterloo Road accedes expectations in all areas." Whatever that meant. It didn't seem like Waterloo Road acceded expectations in any area.

El checked her clock on her bedside table. The minute hand pointed to the seven and the hour hand also pointed to the seven: it was 7:35. God! El thought, scrambling out of bed in a hurry, only pausing to fold the page of the physics revision book she was reading. Hydraulics. Pretty easy stuff in her mind, but it was best to keep it fresh in her mind.

Clipping her plaits onto the top of her head, El hopped into the shower. After that, she got dressed into her green Havalock uniform, tucking her shirt in before putting on the blazer. Undoing her plaits, she checked herself in the mirror. A bruise had formed on her cheek. It wasn't ideal- but what was she going to do?

Grabbing her notes, El went into the kitchen, reached for a breakfast bar and went to the car. It was pretty swanky, El supposed, with its leather seats (which her father creamed regularly- God forbid they got scratched) and about a million gadgets that were probably dangerous to use whilst driving. The clock beside the steering wheel read 8:30. If they didn't get moving now, they were going to be late.

El couldn't be late today. Everyone was counting on her to lead the Havalock team to victory- the head teacher,- well, basically all the teacher, the students from Havalock that were coming to watch, the parents (including her own) that would be watching her in the audience. No pressure or anything.

As if he'd heard her, El's dad got into the driver's seat. He was ready for work, dressed in a grey suit and a burgundy tie. El's dad owned a construction company that was situated near Greenock- that was why they'd moved from Oxford. With the headquarters of the business being in Scotland, neither her mother nor father could understand why they should stay in Oxford. Sometimes El thought she was the only one that missed that place, even though it was where they'd lived for over sixteen years. El's mother had said they'd needed a new start.

El didn't agree.

"Morning, Eloise." Her father started.

"Morning." She replied, getting her notes out of her bag as he started the car. She rubbed her bruise.

About a quarter of an hour later, the car rolled up outside the school. Although the first bell hadn't yet gone, the place was still bustling with children and teachers alike- the bus was already parked outside the science block. El and her father sat in silence in the car.

"Listen, Eloise. Try to get some studying done on the bus ride over."

"I don't know whether a bus is the place to-"

"I don't care, Miss." Her father told her sternly. "You find time to study. It'll give you the best odds of winning. Not that it'll be hard to beat that sorry excuse for a school."

"Yes, dad."

"Remember, El, you're an Avington. Avington's don't fail, no matter what. We're great because we thrive where other's crack under the pressure- we're the best- and I expect you to be the same. Be the best El. Or all the Avington's before you."

El nodded. Her father had given her the family legacy speech many times before. I was a wonder he hadn't drilled t into her head.

El's father smiled at her and tapped the steering wheel. "Okay then. Have a good day, and I'll see you at two. Be careful on the bus."

El smiled back. "I'll be fine, don't fuss."

"I worry!"

El opened the door, smiling. "See you later."

Her dad smiled at her, waited for her to close the door, and then drove away.

Ten minutes later, El was on board the bus with the rest of the Havalock kids w] that were going to Waterloo Road for the competition, either competing with E or as members of the audience. The bus was noisy and full to bursting. There was no way she could learn in this, but El tried anyway, getting her notes out on Hydraulics. None of it went in.

Putting her notes down, El found herself staring out of the window. Her thoughts, like she'd often found them, drifted to Dale. From a few messages that he'd sent her, Dale had told El that he was doing well, going through therapy with therapists and other patients with eating disorders. It was helping, Dale told her, to talk though some of his problems. He was eating more, and gaining back weight because of it. Although El hadn't seen any picture, what Dale had told her sounded brilliant and she couldn't be more proud.

He was supposed to be coming back in a week or so- it was only a short time, but when she was at Waterloo Road, El missed him. She wondered whether he would ask her out when he came back, and whether or not she would say yes. It was all still up in the air. She liked Dale, but when the moment came, she didn't know what she'd say.

Science might have been El's forte, but relationships defiantly weren't. It was the same as speaking- it had to be thought about. Why were those things so hard? Other people had it easy. In the car with Dale, though, El had ran on auto pilot. She hadn't thought when she'd acted, but it had seemed to go well- very well. But doing that all the time might mean that she'd have to think about every action so she didn't offend Dale.

That would be exhausting.

So, like she said, the matter was complicated, and she didn't know what she'd say.

Anyway, El couldn't think about that now. If she thought about Dale she'd get distracted, and today, she couldn't be. The competition was going to be in the newspaper- that meant people were going to be reading about it, judging whichever school that won. Not only that, but the teams would be in the paper too- the pressure of impressing her parents, winning for her school and the apprehension of the people reading the newspaper was all she could think about.

El stared out of the window until the familiar grounds of Waterloo Road came into view. Once they were there, the bus stopped and the head teacher stood in the centre of the bus isle. He clapped his hands together before beginning to talk.

"Everyone, please be quiet!" The bus quieted down, including Daisy, the girl that was sitting a few seats away from El. Her and Daisy were quite good friends. Daisy was quite ditsy- she would be in the audience during the competition- but she was possibly the kindest person El had met, full of compliments and jokes. If El had to pick a best friend, Daisy would be it, hands down.

The head teacher spoke again. "Now, everyone. I know I don't have to tell you that today is a very important day. Members or our school will be competing in a science competition with Waterloo Road and the rest of you will be offering your support from the audience. If you didn't know already, a reporter from the Greenock Oracle will be in the audience, so it's more important than ever we try our best." He looked at El. "It'll give a good impression of the school, but before all that, remember to have fun."

With that, the head teacher told the children to file off the bus quietly. This was done mostly, apart from a few rowdy boys who pushed and shoved each other as they got off the bus.

"Look at Chantelle's arse."

"Like you've got a chance with Chantelle, Mike."

"Well, I managed to get your mum last night, didn't I?"

El was one of the as the last people on the bus, as she'd had to collect her revision notes and then wait for the conga of people that had overtaken her to pass before she could leave her seat. Outside the bus, they crowded in a heap outside its door, waiting for the teachers to tell them where to go. Usually they just went to the science labs, but obviously it was a bit different this time.

The head teacher stood at top of the crowd, flanked by two science teachers. "Alright everybody, follow Miss Hutcherson to the hall!"

The students moved forward. El, who was at the back and was chatting casually with Daisy, had only just started to walk before she was stopped by the head teacher's hand on her arm. "Can I have a word, Eloise? I won't take a minute." He looked at Daisy. "Run along, girl, and catch up with the others."

Daisy nodded and ran ahead.

Now that they were alone, the head teacher started. "Eloise. You must know that today is a very important day. Not just for the school- although God knows that's important- but it's also a very important day for you, too."

"I know, sir."

The man continued as if he hadn't heard her.

"The Greenock Oracle will have a reporter here, so the event will be going in the newspapers. Obviously, it's very important that the school makes a good impression in this, what with the merger, but it could also be very good for you too, El."

El frowned. She didn't need more pressure than she was already under.

"If you stand out in this competition, there's a good chance that the reporter will mention you in their article- maybe even interview you! Imagine that!" He seemed to get very excited for a moment, almost jumpy, at the thought of media coverage for his school. He even clapped his hands in delight. Then he saw El staring at him and he managed to calm himself down.

Taking a deep breath, he said, "You're a bright girl, El. One of the brightest students I've had the pleasure of teaching. You're obviously very gifted in the sciences- that was the reason I put you on the team in the first place. But if you put in even more effort than usual, and play you cards right, than this competition could quite possibly be the door to greater things.

"Do you understand what I'm asking of you, Eloise?"

El was a bit confused. She'd thought this had just been to talk to her about newspapers; it wasn't as if there wasn't enough pressure on her already!

"Excuse me, sir?"

The head teacher sighed. "I'm asking that you try you very best today. I need you to be on the ball during the competiton, to help us win. Not only does winning give the school the best possible image for the merger, but it could mean good things for you, too." He smiled. "So, 110% today, Eloise?"

"Yes, Sir." El replied.

"Great, great! I think your father will be pleased, too. Now go and catch up the others."

El turned and started to walk to the hall. Her heart was beating like drum in her chest, so fast that she was scared that it might pop out of her cavity. Now more pressure. As if she needed that. Not only did she have to impress her parents, she had to impress reporters and basically, reading behind the lines of the head teacher's words, try to win the competition for her school. The weight of the pressure was starting to push her down, but El tried not to let it get to her and to keep a clear head.

Nothing could be achieved through worrying- only actions.

So El started to run to the hall, to revise as much as she could.

* * *

Later, El was doing just that. She sat in a ring with all the other Havalock competitors- Miss Rosco sat at the front, practise questions in one hand, a mug of tea in the other. The others, including Miss Brown, had gone to set up in the hall, putting out chairs and tables and such. El and the others sat in the library, sheltered by the books.

It was deserted, but as El looked over to the computers where she and Dale had stood only a few weeks later (where she'd had the first-hand experience of being felt up) she was flooded with memories. El could see a past her and a past Dale, quieter than usual, then getting louder and louder, before El flounced off. The memory seemed as real as people that you watch from a distance. They seemed as real as flesh and blood. She could practically hear their voices, calm at first then growing frantic. The voices seemed to reach for her, trapping her like hands, scratching at her ears.

El shirked and rubbed her ears, over and over. Everyone started at her.

"Are you alright, Eloise?" Mrs Rosco asked.

El looked over her shoulder, but the woman had disrupted whatever had been happening. The earlier El and Dale had gone, retreated into the past.

"Fine," El lied, plastering a fake smile on her face. "Was it question number 14?"

"Yes," spoke the teacher slowly, as if she didn't quite believe El. "Part A."

They resumed.

2

Three quarters of an hour later, or there about, the group had finished their practise questions. El had managed to answer all the questions that she'd been asked, only getting a few minor points wrong. They were stupid mistakes, really- things that El should have known if she wanted to win. El heard her father's voice in her head: Avingtons are winners. She repeated it in her head like a mantra. If things got really desperate, she could always use it as a war cry.

Right now, El was walking into the canteen. She'd brought her lunchbox, but, as she fancied something hot and had some loose change in her pocket, she was going to get a hot chocolate. El's only worry about that drink was whether she could work the brown moustache that came with it. She counted the change that was in her pocket- she just had enough.

El fed her change into the machine and watched as mud coloured liquid began to spray into a cup. She was so enthralled that she nearly jumped out of skin when someone tapped her on the shoulder. Whipping around quickly, her panic subsided when she saw that it was only Lenny.

"Lenny," she told him, catching her breath, "You startled me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to. Taking a break from the revision?"

"You caught me."

Lenny smiled. "How's it going?"

El thought for a moment. "Pretty good, though, if I hear the same question about Michael and why his conductor has become magnetised, I think I shall scream."

Lenny laughed.

"Are you going to be competing for Waterloo Road?"

Lenny shook his head, still smiling. "Nah, I'm gonna be in the audience. My girlfriend," Lenny seemed to beam when he said that word, pointing to a dark- skinned girl in a red cardigan, "Kerry will be competing. She's really clever- they had to put her ahead!"

"She must be clever, then." Spoke E. "She's pretty, too."

"She sure is." Then Lenny all of a sudden changed the subject. "Have you heard from Dale?" He asked.

"Uh, a bit, he's texted me a few times. You?"

Lenny nodded. "He called me this morning. Told me that he was coming home next week, if all goes well at his final weigh in. They're really pleased with him."

El heart surged. The pressure didn't seem so great for a moment. _Dale's coming home! _She thought. For some reason, her heart felt a little bit lighter because of that news, but the butterflies started in her stomach. Then a question struck her- why hadn't Dale called her?

"He wanted me to wish you luck," Lenny continued. "So good luck from me and Dale." El smiled. "He didn't call you because he didn't want to distract you."

It was like Lenny had read her mining. "Did he tell me to win, or is he with team Waterloo Road?"

"Waterloo Road, obviously- the guy's got some taste-"

"Hey-"El interjected.

"But he didn't' tell you to win because I think he already thinks you're going to do well."

El was about to answer before the bell went, signalling the start of the competition.

"Bye, El." Lenny told her, going to take his seat in the hall."

"Bye," El replied.

She left her hot chocolate there, not feeling in the mood for it anymore.

Oh well. Some lucky passer-by could save their money.

* * *

El started to feel really nervous when her parents arrived. Before, she'd felt pressure, the sheer mass of it weighing down on her, but not nervous. Now, as her father's sharp, cold eyes trained on her from her seat, her hands started to get clammy.

Not that anyone else noticed. El didn't blame them. People generally don't notice other people's problems whilst they're dealing with their own. The head teacher called another meeting- well, more of a pep talk. He talked about doing the school proud, making a good impression in the community, having fun, and above all, about trying one's best. He looked at El as he said: "I trust that you'll all try your best, both in support and in the competition- give 110% to make Havalock proud."

El nodded and everyone cheered. Lorna came behind the backstage and told the group that the competition would be starting in a few minutes and to get ready. The support students filed off and took their seats in the audience, whilst El and the others waited anxiously for the cue to take to the stage.

Mr Fitzgerald gave a rousing speech to the audience and the journalist about the relationship between Havalock and Waterloo Road. He also talked up Waterloo Road, trying to convince the audience that the competition showed that Waterloo Road was a school that was exceeding in all areas, not just looking after its sporty pupils, but its academics, too. The competition also showed that the school had strong connections with Havalock, so, not matter what happened with the merger, there would be a strong community.

And with that, Mr Fitzgerald waved both the teams onto the stage.

El's stomach lurched as she again made eye contact with her father- his eyes seemed to excrete the expectations he had for her. El took a deep breath.

The competition had begun.

The first question was easily- El raised her arm as quick as a flash and answered it with ease. That was five points for Havalock already. Then another. Then another. The more she got right, the more comfortable El became. She started to slouch in her chair, and spotted Lenny in the audience. His eyes flickered to El, but they were almost completely fixed on Kerry: it was clear he adored her.

One day, El wanted to look at someone or be looked in that way.

It was clear to El that Kerry was the smartest Waterloo Road had to offer.

She answered nearly as many questions as El did, and got most of them right, too. It became El and Kerry's goal to beat each other, in a game not just of smarts but of who could raise their hand quickest.

"How can an object be travelling at a constant speed but be accelerating?" Mr Fitzgerald asked.

El whipped her hand into the air. "Because the object changes direction regularly; this means the object can be staying at the same speed, but changes velocity, which can be governed by direction, meaning it's accelerating."

"Correct." The audience clapped, and El saw her father give her a nod.

Next question. "What gives atoms their mass?"

Another question El answered, but saying: "The Higgs Boson Particle."

"Correct." Another five points.

"What structure is DNA?"

This time, Kerry beat her.

"A helix structure."

"Correct."

It continued like that, with a few others interjecting, until the competition's last question dawned. The score at that point was: Havalock 245 and Waterloo Road 205. Elf felt confident that she'd dealt with the pressure well, and she'd be able to please everyone: Waterloo Road was going to lose. The head teacher has a faint smile on her lips, whilst her father gave her a thumbs up.

The last question was the most difficult of the competition. Mr Fitzgerald read it out, scanning the audience and focusing on the reporter, as if he'd give the school a good right up out of pity. But then he started on the question.

"Everyone, I hold in my hand the last question of the night. As it stands, Havalock is in the lead with 245 points, whilst waterloo Road has 205. This question, though is worth 50 points and could tip the balance." He looked towards the competitors. "How can you tell the DNA of identical twins apart?"

Time ticked by: it was a hard question. Surely DNA of identical twins would be the same- they had the same DNA, after all. But then El thought about it, and suddenly she thought of one of the articles she'd read in a science magazine. Then, as if by magic, she knew the answer. You heated the DNA up to see the environmental change.

El looked over at Kerry. The girl was bring her lip, trying to figure out the answer. From her frowning expression, it was clear she didn't know. Any worried that El had had faded away- there was not chase Waterloo Road could win- El would be able to please her family, her name and her school after all.

Then El saw Kerry scan the crowd. She seemed to be looking for someone, but it wasn't Lenny. Instead, it was a woman with bright clothing and chocolate coloured skin: she looked like Kerry. Then El twigged. This must be Kerry's mum. El looked at her closely. She didn't look happy, and was staring at Kerry with a look that could kill a horse. It was the same expression El's father wore when she wasn't doing her best academically, or lost a competition. Kerry bit her lip again, harder, making El realise that Kerry was under the same amount of pressure she was.

El had an attack of conscience. Kerry's situation was just like hers- she had the pressure of impressing a parent, too. Then El's attention was caught by Mr Fitzgerald. He was looking worriedly into the audience and was biting a hangnail. His hands were shaking, though he tried to keep them hidden behind his back. El felt pity, and thought of what would happen if she won the competition. Havelock would get a good write up in the newspaper, Waterloo Road would be slated, making the merger more likely than ever. All El's friends would have to leave the school they obviously adored- and for what, so El could try to please her father? That never worked anyway.

El took a deep breath. She had made her decision.

The next step was to get the answer to Kerry. This whole thought pattern had only taken a few seconds, but time was running out.

El faked a cough, drawing people's attention to her. When Kerry looked over, El raised her eyebrows to her, effectively telling her to keep watching. Then she mimed heat by blowing quickly on her arm, then reaching up and fake yawning for the environment mime.

Kerry eyes widened in understanding, and her hand shot up.

"Through heat, sir. It allows us to see environmental differences between the twins.

Mr Fitzgerald looked so relieved El was worried that he'd collapse.

"Correct. Waterloo Road is the winner of the Havalock and Waterloo Road science competition 2015!"

A cheer went up from the red side of the room, but El caught her father's blue eyed gaze and knew he'd seen everything.

* * *

The next day, El came into school with a fresh bruise on her jaw.

**Hello! Sorry for the recent late updates, but I've been all over the place, what will school and the massive workload. From now on, though, I'll be aiming to update on Sundays- I definitely will be updating! I hope you enjoyed this chapter- please review so I can know if you guys liked the last two chapters. It would make my day if you reviewed! Next chapter will hopefully finally see some fluff, and I'm looking forward to seeing what you think. By the way, are the characters in character? It's a fear of mine. **


	10. Chapter 10

El sat in an uncomfortable plastic seat, staring at the stage. She ignored the growing numbness in her bottom and watched Scott take the stage as Kenzie didn't show up. El wondered what had happened to her. Maybe she was stuck somewhere with stage fright, or had simply decided not to show up. Either way, it didn't matter. Waterloo Road's last attempt to save itself wasn't going well.

The ship was capsizing, and there was no sign of lifeboats.

At the sight of Scott getting up on the stage, many people got up and started to make their way to the exits. People obviously thought that Waterloo Road had nothing more planned- nothing more to offer- if a student tried to make the speech. El, though, stayed in her seat. She wanted to hear what Scott had to say.

"Lock the doors," Scott shouted, holding up a pair of handcuffs. El almost laughed, it was so shocking. What was he going to do? Mr Fitzgerald looked horrified, but didn't try to stop anyone. Perhaps he knew it was his last chance.

All around the hall, there were the sound of doors bolting shut, of keys being turned and the sounds of people being told that they couldn't use the door. El saw Lenny, stopping people from leaving with only his body, stand with Darren. El's head turned and she smiled, trying to take everything in. It was brilliant. All around her, people trying to get out weren't allowed to move, either, due to the fact that Waterloo Road pupils and teachers were physically blocking the doors. It was like something out of a hostage scene in a movie, El thought.

"Hey, Hey, Hey! Where do you all think you're going? We aren't finished with you yet. In fact, we haven't even started, so you might as well sit down." Scott told the crowd. Now, Mr Fitzgerald and some of the other teachers in the audience, like the history teacher Miss McFall, weren't frowning, but were smiling and wearing looks or amazement.

"You can't lock us in against our will." Said the lady from the council.

Scott just laughed. "Do you wanna bet?"

She shook her head, obviously thinking it was all just one big joke. "Vaughn, what is this?"

Vaughn moved closer to the microphone. "This?" He asked, moving his hands around the whole hall area, as if she might be talking about something else. "This is Waterloo Road."

A cheer went up, and El grinned. Yes. It certainly was.

Scott then launched into his speech. Whilst he was talking, the whole hall fell silent. The speech, El though, was brilliant. The silence probably meant that the adults thought so too. What made the speech so good wasn't that it was partially beautifully worded or academic in its teachings, but because the speech was eloquent and full of passion. That's what gave everyone in the room a feeling of inspiration- not mere words.

Scott's speech talked about all the children that Waterloo Road had helped. Children that had potential. Some of them might not have been that gifted, but the school could see a seed of potential in them, and they were determined to nature it- even when other schools wouldn't.

Scott then made the speech more personal, at first going into more detail about some of the children Waterloo Road had helped and their behaviours. Then he talked about something even closer to home- Kenzie. El knew who she was vaguely, from Mr Fitzgerald calling her to come up to the stage and a few snippets of gossip during science class.

It became less of a talk about the school and more a talk about the pupils. Scott called on some of the students to talk, but the only thing that filled the hall was silence. El started to feel uneasy- tension filled the room like a gas cloud. She hoped someone would speak soon.

In the end, it was Lisa who broke the silence. She took a step forward, a determined look on her face that said if no one else was brave enough to speak then she bloody well would. El respected her a little bit for that.

"Waterloo Road took us in," Lisa began. "When we had nothing and no one." Everyone in the room turned to look at her, but then Lenny started to talk.

"They've been amazing. We'd be on the streets or locked up if the school hadn't of done that." El saw Maggie smile at Lenny- it was the kind of gaze a loving parent bestowed upon their child. It made sense; all of the children living in the school house, were, to an extent, Maggie's children. They were her family.

"This place is my home." Rhiannon started. "Always had been and always will be." She gave a small chuckle on the end, before Darren started to talk beside her.

"The truth is, I don't know where I'd be if it wasn't for this place. I didn't have… the best start. And then when my mum I thought that was it. But Waterloo Road was there to pick up the pieces and turn my life around. Now everything… everything's great."

In the middle of the hall, clutched in her mother's grasp, Kerry stood up. She disobeyed her mother's intentions and values- those of the Havalock persuasion- just so that she could defend her school. If that wasn't dedication, then El didn't know what dedication was. "It's not just about education," she mused. "It's about the people you meet, and the friends you make- for life."

El turned around to look around the room. The sight of Mr Fitzgerald caught her eye. He looked so different to hat he'd looked like only a few minutes ago. Gone was the worried and tired face, the tell- tale sign of the stress of the merger taking its hold. Now, Mr Fitzgerald looked at his students with nothing but pride. It was wonderful to see.

Then a familiar voice made El tuned back around. It was Dale, and El was shocked by what she saw. But it was a good shock. Dale looked brilliant. Whatever he'd been doing at that centre, it was working. He looked so much better- he looked fuller bodied, stronger, and, most importantly, happier. Dale obviously had a long journey ahead of him, but he looked to be well on his way. Looking at him, El burned with pride and her stomach buzzed with the same strange feeling she hadn't felt since Dale had left.

The visit was a surprise- Dale hadn't told her he was coming back! He obviously had a flair for the dramatic. As he walked into the room, he patted Lenny on the shoulder, surprising him, then turned towards the crowd. Lenny's face was a picture- it was like he was so surprised he couldn't process what he was seeing. El thought she probably look the same.

"I took a few wrong turns as well," Dale told the audience. "Did some pretty stupid things, but they didn't turn their back. They got me help and now things are much, much better."

Abdul started to talk, but El wasn't listening. She was watching Dale, still a bit in shock at his sudden arrival. Was he back for good now?

Dale seemed to be searching for someone in the crowd. He scanned through member of different schools and council members until he came to the person he was looking for. It was El. The two made eye contact and El's face broke into a massive grin.

Dale gave her a small wave, and El waved back.

Dale smiled.

* * *

Later, El and Dale were leaning against the refreshments table.

She had her bag between her legs and they were both clutching plastic cups full of lemonade. Dale was telling her somethings about the centre he'd been in, the people he'd met and the progress he'd made. El thought he was a bit uncomfortable- maybe he just didn't want to talk about it in public. El could understand that. It was like having the most intimate pictures of your life given to a stranger- there were some things in life only your inner circle should know. Was El part of that now?

"I talked through some things with my councillor, Phillip." He looked at her. "You know, about the cycling team and stuff."

El nodded. "What did he say?"

"He told me that there were bigger things in the world than a cycling team. That I shouldn't ruin myself over something that small- because I'm bigger than that. It took me a few days to get my head around it, though. I mean, cycling was my whole life- it was the biggest thing in my life. But I realised that I'm bigger than all of it. All of the spiff, dealers, cycling, eating disorder. That's the trick, Phillip said, knowing that you're bigger than your issues."

El grinned at Dale. "This Phillip sounds good. Can you give me his number?"

Dale laughed.

"Seriously, though, Dale, it's amazing what you're doing. I'm so proud of you, I really am. Keep it up and you'll be amazed at what you're doing." She told him.

Dale relaxed against the refreshment table. "Thanks El." Then he shot up, as if someone had electrocuted him with a high voltage of electricity. "I nearly forgot! How did the competition go?"

El sighed, stooping low and pretending to hand her head in shame. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask."

"That good, huh?"

"We lost," El said, rubbing her still- bruised cheek. "Well, I lost it. I gave the last answer to Kerry."

"Why?" Asked Dale, looking very confused.

El shrugged. How could she begin to explain it, without explaining about Kerry, about her parents, and about the pressure? There was an easy answer- she couldn't. So she didn't. "She needed a win more than me."

Dale seemed to sense that was as far as El would go, like him, she wasn't comfortable speaking about certain things. A silence fell upon them, as they watched their friends dance, lost in the joy of Waterloo Road being kept open. Dale felt it as well, but not as strongly as the others. He'd only been there for one term and for part of that he'd been at an eating disorder clinic.

He looked at El. She was looking at the others as well, clutching a not empty lemonade cup. Her brown hair was messy, she had a bruise forming on her cheek and frowning slightly (obviously deep in concentration) and she reminded him of the day he'd first met her. The only difference was the lack of a satchel on her shoulder.

The feeling was growing in his shoulder, stronger than before. He needed to ask the question that had been on his mind since he'd been in the car and had been comforted by El.

"Have you made up your mind, then?" Dale asked.

El turned around, a little bit startled for his sudden talking. "About what?"

"You know… about whether or not you wanna go out with me." It came out in a rush, and Dale could feel his cheeks from going red.

"If I recall, Mr Jackson, I told you that you had to ask me first." She was smiling now, teasing him.

"Okay, El." Dale took a deep breath, as if he was asking her to marry him, not just to go out with him. It was nerve- wracking either way- Dale had to go out with El. He just had to. She was funny, clever, and she didn't care about his faults. He could talk to her about his problems and she'd try to make them better, even if she didn't always succeed. He didn't mind her quirks- like the fact that she sometimes seemed to have no filter and said some pretty ride things. There weren't many girls like El, Dale had decided a while ago- they were special and you had to let them know that before they were gone.

"Will you go out with me?" He waited, his heart pounding.

"Not here!" El joked, grinning. "A school hall isn't very romantic, is it? If you want to ask me out, come round to Havalock tomorrow at four. School will have finished, and you can ask me out on the field. I'll be swept off my feet."

Dale was sort of disappointed that he hadn't gotten his answer, but El's response hadn't been a no- and his had been pretty funny.

"How is a school field better than a school hall?"

"Atmospheric."

Dale laughed. "You're unbelievable."

"Well then," El said, back to her happy, grinning self, "would you like to dance with an unbelievable girl?"

Dale shook his head, protesting, but allowed himself to be dragged into the crowd, where they danced (badly) with his friends and each other. _Tomorrow,_ Dale thought. He'd have his answer tomorrow. That was something worth celebrating.

* * *

Tomorrow was bright with promise.

After finishing his first day at Waterloo Road without the merger hanging over their heads, Dale left Lenny, Lisa, Rhiannon and Darren to make their way back to the school house without him. Dale walked in the opposite direction- towards Havalock.

He trekked through short cuts of fields and muddy paths, not caring in the least if he got his uniform mucky; he had bigger things on his mind. It was weird, Dale mused. All of last night and today Dale had been excited to finally get an answer, excited for all the things that might be on the horizon. But now, the thought of asking El to go out with him filled his with dread. What if she said no?

Dale didn't know what was wrong with him- he'd asked out loads of girls before but he'd never felt the same nervousness as he felt now. Then again, he'd never asked a girl like El out before, never asked a girl who was helping him through his problems like El was. He'd never asked a girl out that had cared enough about him to bring a spoon and a yoghurt in just so that he could eat.

Dale trudged on, nerves mixing with the other, more familiar feeling in his stomach.

After a few more minutes, he saw the dark, foreboding shape of Havalock. Dale had known he'd been close to the school due to the fact that the houses had started to become posher and posher the closer he got. He'd even seen some wheelie bins that looked posher than some of the houses near Waterloo Road; something that Dale had thought was impossible.

The gate to Havalock was still open- some kids were probably doing a club or something. Dale walked onto the school grounds and had a good look for El (and the school, too, with all its glittering glass and modern metal) before spotting her near the edge of a school block. He could see that she was wrapped up warm in a yellow coat and a green woollen scarf, her head buried in it for warmth.

Dale waved and she spotted him, waved a gloved hand at him and walked towards him.

"Hey." El said when she was next to him.

"Hi," Dale replied, shivering a bit in the cold now that he was no longer moving and the mud and water on him from the short- cut started to feel freezing. "You been waiting long?"

"A bit, but I bet I don't feel nearly as cold as you! Don't you have a coat or some gloves or anything to ward against the cold?"

"Ward?" Dale laughed. "What are you, a medieval dictionary?"

El laughed. "I'm from Oxford, Dale. Our vocabulary is a bit different from Greenock."

"Medieval Oxford?"

El playfully shoved him. "No, you idiot," she joked. "Modern Oxford. Anyway, you're avoiding the question. Don't you have anything warm to wear?"

Dale looked down at himself. He wore a hoodie on top of his uniform, which was now soaking wet, right down to his jeans. His shoes were canvas trainers (Vans) - none of which was any good against the cold. Truth be told, Dale was freezing.

"I guess this is it."

EL softly said: "Idiot," before talking off her scarf and, standing on her tip-toes, wrapped it around his neck.

"El, you didn't have to-"

"Nonsense. I have a coat and a very effective pair of gloves. I don't need a scarf. Besides, green suits you." She shrugged. "You should wear it more often, instead of red."

"Why- doesn't it look good on me?"

"Not the best." El told him, and there it was, the rudeness that El didn't seem to know she was sprouting. Dale let it pass, as the kindness she'd shown him with the scarf outweighed the rudeness of her comments.

"So, are you god at fashion?"

"No, I'm terrible." El told him. "But, in a relationship with me, you get terrible fashion advice as well as the regular things."

Dale's heart skipped a beat as he went over what she'd said. "Is that a yes, then? You'll go out with me?"

El started at him. "I want to be rushed of my feet first, Dale, whilst I think about it."

Dale scratched his ear. "How do I do that, then?"

"Well, I'm very hungry, and I told my parents that I wouldn't be back in time for dinner."

"Oh, okay." Dale said, understanding. "Fish and chips then?" He said the last part in an imitation of a very posh Oxford accent, like El's.

El said her answer in a cockney accent. "Exquisite."

They both laughed and started to walk out of the school, Dale's borrowed green scarf clashing against his red jumper and shoes. Their footprints were clearly visible on the wet grass where they'd been standing, the trodden on grass lower than the rest. It was if Mother Nature had tried to preserve something just for them in a world that was constantly changing.

Neither El nor Dale saw this, though. They were too absorbed in each other's company.

Later, they walked into town. Before going anywhere to eat, they went into a few shops that they came across on the way. They looked at DVD's in a shop selling just that, where Dale found out that El wasn't a fan of horror films- not because she didn't like them, but because she managed to figure out the plot before the end and got bored. (They also scared her.) They looked at some of the newer films, including the Theory of Everything. El gushed that she'd loved the film and that it was one of her favourites. Dale hadn't seen it, but had heard that it was supposed to be good. El didn't elaborate on any of Hawking's theories- something that Dale was thankful for.

Dale liked most films; he'd watch anything, really. He'd always been too busy for films, biking most of the time. At the thought of biking, his stomach dropped, but he pushed it out of his mind. He did, though, particularly like films with good plots (who didn't?) like Inglorious Dastards. When he told El this, she said that she'd liked it- eve if it was a bit violent.

Then they went into a few clothes shops, ignoring the sports ones. Dale tried not to even look at them. They fooled around, trying on different outfits. There were now loads of pictures on Dale's phone of El in different outfits, from wearing funky cowboy hats, to wigs to overalls. Likewise, Dale had put on funny outfits and the pictures were now on El's phone.

It was fun. They continued to do it until the shop assistant that they'd been annoying with all their messing around finally kicked them out, running them both out of the shop. They ran up the length of the street, Dale slightly ahead of El, laughing the whole way.

"Do you see her face?" Dale asked, keeling over with laughter.

El burst out with fresh laughs. "She looked like she was going to eat us!"

After they recovered from their fit of giggles, they decided it was as good a time as any to eat and started to look for a place to do so.

They soon found somewhere. It was a shabby, small, fish and chip shop. It had a few dingy tables and chairs in front of the counter for them to sit, with bottles of cheap ketchup on them. It looked nasty even to Dale, so he'd thought at El, with her posh accent and nice clothes would through a fit when they got in there.

But she didn't. El took off her coat and put it on the greasy chair and put her gloves on the equally greasy table. She didn't seem to notice the dirt, simply mentioning for Dale to sit down. They picked up a menu which had ground in food on it and decided what to eat.

The restaurant shouldn't have bothered spending money on making the menus, Dale decided. There were only three choices: not enough to bother printing out. You could either have: Fish and Chips (duh, Dale thought), Fishcakes and chips and Sausage and chips.

"Dale, I don't know whether to have chips with my meal," El joked. "What do you think?"

"I think you don't have much choice," Dale replied. Then he sighed. "Sorry it's not exquisite."

"What do you mean?"

"Um, you said you wanted it to be 'exquisite'…" Dale trailed off.

"Dale, I was joking!" She flapped a glove at him. Besides," she spread her arms out. "Fish and chips are great."

"Can't argue with that."

A man that was on the large side (putting it mildly) came to take their orders.

The man had tattoos up and down his arms, complexly covering them. It was hard not to look.

"Orders?" He said, then coughed on his hand, wiping it on his grubby apron. Dale pretended that he hadn't noticed.

"Um, fish and chips, mate."

"Fish and Chips too, please."

"Drinks?" the man croaked.

"Coke." El replied.

"Same here." Dale told the man.

After they'd ordered, the man walked off, hopefully to prepare their food after washing his hands.

After a few minutes of chatting, they got their food, which, surprisingly, wasn't bad. It was nice, actually. It was real chip shop food- it was automatically great. After they'd eaten, they both paid equal parts of the bill and walked along the pier near the end of Greenock docks. He felt like he was in a romantic movie, with the sun setting behind him and a girl beside him.

Once they'd gotten to the end of the pier, they both sat down. Dale rolled up his socks to put his feet in the water, but El sat cross legged. Dale noticed their hands were resting next to each other.

He and El started out into the sunset for a while before he remembered that he could speak.

"That food was actually quite good. I'm surprised."

"Told you, you can't go wrong with fish and chips."

"Say that when you've got food poisoning."

El laughed. "Have you ever had that before?"

"Course," he told her.

"No, really bad. Have you ever had it really bad?"

Dale thought. "Once, when I was a kid. My aunt has undercooked so meat or something like that- I was throwing up all over the place. She didn't even help me- it was Simon that did that." Dale smiled at the memory. It has been soon after he'd moved into his aunt's, and Dave had made him feel loved, standing in for his aunt.

"He sounds like a good man. Is he still around?"

Dale shook his head. "Nah, my aunt drove him away."

El didn't say anything for a while. But when she did, she was quoted, serious. "I'm sorry, Dale."

"Not your fault." He sniffed. "Anyway, have you decided?"

There was a pause. "Yeah, I have."

Dale's stomach filled with butterflies. What if it was a no?

El, though, didn't give him time to wonder. She scratched at her nail, almost drawing blood. She seemed uncomfortable.

"It's a yes."

A yes! Dale was ecstatic. El was his girlfriend! His actual, real girlfriend! He let out a whoop, and El laughed. He could hardly believe it was really happening.

They lay basking in the sunset, side by side, enjoying the piece. Dale would have to be getting back soon, or else Maggie would worry, but for now, he was content. He was on cloud nine! His life seemed good. His eating disorder would soon be a thing of the past and he had friends and a girlfriend- a clever, wonderful girl who made Dale's heart flutter.

He wished things would stay like that forever.

Of course, life is rarely that simple.

Dale tried to take El's hand, but she pulled it away! "What are you doing?" She Asked.

She looked uncomfortable, and Dale wondered if she'd held someone's hand before. He took it gently, not letting her shoo it away. She didn't. Her skin was soft, like Cotton. Dale couldn't wipe the smile off his face- and whilst El looked uncomfortable for a while, after a time, a small soft smile spread across her face.

They lay back, their hair spread out behind their heads and their hands touching, staring up at the darkening sky.

**Yay! They're finally together- it seems like it's been ages for that to happen. Anyways, what did you think? Pleas review if you liked it and give me some feedback. I hope you like it- a review would make my day!**


	11. Chapter 11

A month later.

Dale lay back on his bed, arms behind his back. His body was slack and he had his headphones were in- he was relaxed. Why wouldn't he be? Things were great. That might sound like Dale was bragging, but they were.

Things were going great with El, who he'd been going out with for one month. They were taking it slow- El didn't seem comfortable with doing lots of things really quickly. It was strange, Dale thought. At his old schools, he'd asked girls out, kissed and had his way with them within a week- with El, they'd done none of those things. But none of those girls had made his as happy as he was with El-they'd drained him, whilst El seemed to replenish him.

Who wouldn't want that?

On the subject of replenishment: Dale was feeling it. Although it had only been a month, he was making good progress on the journey of his eating disorder. Dale knew it wasn't an easy road- hell, sometimes it didn't even seem like there was a road- and he knew that he would always suffer with a problem with food to some extent. But progress was being made- even the doctors and his therapist, Phillip, said so.

That was one relief: he still had help with trying to combat his disorder outside his friends and Maggie. They'd been trying their best, Dale knew they had, what with Maggie cooking him buttery, calorie- packed meals that he still only half ate, El coaxing him to eat more food and still brining in a yoghurt every day. She even shook it up with flavours changes. (She gave him the yoghurts when Dale saw her after school.) Lenny and his other friends from the school house had also been trying with him; they forced him to eat when they were sitting with him at break.

That was all well and good, and Dale was grateful for it, he really was, but he was so happy that he still had outside help. This was because that he could see the cracks forming in his friends- they were small now, but without outside help, they would get bigger with the strain of what was trying to help someone with an eating disorder. His friends said that he wasn't a stain, but Dale still thought he was- nothing anyone could say would convince him otherwise.

Dale felt weak. It was an illness that he had, but it wasn't an illness like a disease or a broken leg. That Dale could understand- that was physical. But an eating disorder? That was harder for him to get his head around. Physically, yeah, he wasn't as strong as he'd been when he'd been cycling every day- Dale quickly pushed that thought out of his mind- but every time he decided that he was going to eat, was going to eat a lot and get better, there was a voice in his head that stopped him.

The voice said terrible things, and the worse part was that it was so convincing. It told him that if he going weight his cycling dreams would be in even bigger tatters; that he would get fat and ugly and El wouldn't want him; that if he gained weight all his hard work, all their hard work, would be in tatters.

The worse thing was that Dale sometimes listened to the voice. That made him weak. Nothing would ever convince Dale otherwise.

He needed Phillip and the doctors because, that way, his weakness didn't put such a strain on the people that were closest to him. They also knew what they were talking about, which was reassuring. A problem Dale had with jus his friends and Maggie helping was that he might slip and no one would be able to help him.

The disorder was strong. But there was one thing that Phillip had taught him to think to himself when he was having a bad day. On those days, Dale repeated it to himself like a mantra. _I am bigger than this, _he thought. _Anorexia is a bug under my feet. _Or on the really bad days, when the disorder was at its peak, when he struggled to eat a thing, he'd mutter: _Anorexia is a dragon. _It was. That was one of the only ways Dale could describe it: Anorexia was a dangerous beast with rows of teeth and fire coming out of its nostrils.

But Dale would think: _Anorexia is a dragon. But I'm the dragon slayer. _

It was weird, but it worked. And Dale was in no positon to refuse help- he needed all of it that he could get.

Dale stretched his hands out from underneath his head and reached into one of his bedside table's drawers. There were no drugs in there, this time; instead it was full of magazines. Cycling magazines, if you wanted to be specific. They were from when he was still in with a chance on the cycling team.

After he'd gotten back from the clinic, one had arrived for him when no one was inside to see him with it, and he hadn't had the heart to throw it away. He'd read it cover to cover- he hadn't realised how much he'd missed even reading about the sport. It was like Dale was a dieter that had finally gotten that slice of cake he'd been craving, even though he knew he shouldn't.

He'd read the magazine from cover to cover, then again. When the next one had arrived earlier this week, he'd done the same. Now he was re- reading his favourite articles, obey of which was an interview with the Tour De France winner Bradley Wiggins.

Dale absolutely loved that guy.

He'd wanted to be just like him when he'd still been cycling. The wins, the Olympics- the success- minus the sideburns, of course. Looking at him now, with all those memoires, was painful, but not as painful as it once had been. People were right when they said that wounds healed with time. But Dale had a hunch that cycling would always be a bit painful for him.

Just one ride. That's all he wanted. A nice, relaxing bike ride. He wanted to feel the wind on his face, the mud as it sprayed onto his legs because he went into a muddy puddle way too fast, see the landscape as he whizzed past. He wanted to feel free again, free from the disorder that had kept him captive.

Like he said, all he wanted was one bike ride.

In the corner of one of the back pages of the magazine was a small article. He'd seen it before, but, like the article, it caught his eye again- even though it was the most painful in the whole magazine- which was saying a lot.

It was an article on the club that he'd tried out for. It was an article that was dedicate to the club's rising star- ones that were in with a chance with getting to the Olympics. Although Dale tried to stop it, every time he saw a picture of a smiling teenager on a bike a bitter voice said inside his head: _That could have been you. That should have been you. _

Dale didn't even try to contradict it. I hold have been him, being featured in a cycling magazines as one of the rising stars that could make it to the Olympics. He'd tried his best, hadn't he? Hadn't he given it his all? Hadn't he deserved it?

Dale was breathing hard now, his breath coming in deep gulps. He had to remind himself that what was done was done- he couldn't go back in time and change anything. Dale tried to get his mind back to where it had been just a few minutes ago.

His life was great.

Dale stuffed the magazine in his bag, as well as his nearly empty wallet, slipped on his shoes and went to go meet one of the people that made it that way. She'd be waiting for him.

* * *

Turns out, Dale was wrong. El wasn't waiting for him. So, Dale, not infinity he'd bring his magazine to save him from boredom, was forced to sit crouched on a brick wall and wait for his girlfriend. Girlfriend. The word still sounded strange in his mind, never mind saying it out loud. Quickly, he checked his watch. It was half- past seven. He was right on time; this was the time they'd agreed to meet.

Dale was a bit worried- El was never, ever late. Never. But she was now. What was keeping her so long? He consoled himself that it was probably just the traffic, and as Dale had walked from the schoolhouse, he hadn't gotten stuck in it. He vaguely remembered (after not bothering to listen to Maggie at breakfast- food was still too distracting) Maggie talking about a possible traffic jam with the road works.

That was it, then. El would be here as soon as she could. So Dale, too pass the time, got out his magazine and began to read. He was so engrossed in it he was startled and very nearly had a heart attack when El tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sorry," She smiled at his reaction with such a big grin that he thought she wasn't at all. "Hi."

"Hi," He replied.

Dale took in El's appearance. A strange thing was happening, the more time he spent with El. Every time he saw her, he decided that she had gotten prettier. It was almost like, the more she made him laugh, the more she made him smile, the prettier she became. Dale knew El had always been pretty- that was probably one of the reasons why he'd fancied her (that had been the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach) - but the more he got to know her, it was like her personality came out onto her face.

It was beautiful.

Today, as, even in April, it was still cold, El was wrapped up. (Damn Britain's shitty weather, Dale though.) She wore the yellow coat she'd worn then he'd asked her out, black jeans, a red jumper and a blue shirt. She wore converse and minimal make-up; but no scarf, because Dale still had that- El had insisted that he keep it. It was in one of his drawers in his bedroom. She had a bruise on her right cheek. El often had a bruise on her face- she was really clumsy, or something like that. She was always hitting the towel rail or hitting herself in the face with cupboards. Dale glanced over the bruise like the imperfection wasn't even there.

"Why were you late?" He frowned, concerned.

"Why- were you worried?"

Dale looked at her, and she laughed. She reached forward and took his hand. Warmth spread up from it and across the rest of his body. He gazed at her as she ran a hand through her hair- the other still didn't let go.

"Your face goes all scrunched up when you get worried. "

Dale shot her look bordering on horror, which made her bawl with laughter. "Don't worry- it's cute." She held up her spare hand in mock surrender. "I swear! Don't worry about me either, Dale. The traffic was murder."

"Sorry- I just… I…"

"Dale, what did I just say?"

"Oh. Right."

El switched the subject, walking over to sit on the bench that he was perched on. It was kind of damp, because it had been raining before (when wasn't it- it was Scotland, after all) but El ignored it. She looked at what Dale was reading.

"Is that this week's?"

Dale looked at his magazine, which was still open on his lap. El was the only one that he'd told about the magazines. Obviously held had to keep them a secret from Maggie, otherwise she'd get all worried and might take them off him, as if reading about the sport would be as bad as actually doing it. She'd have to ask his therapist. Lenny and his other friends would just worry too much. El worried, he knew she did and he felt bad for it, but once he'd explained it to her she was okay with it. She understood how much he needed it- so that he could feel some normality. "Oh. Yeah, it came on Tuesday. There's an article in it about Bradley Wiggins. You know how much I like him."

"I do. Alright then, Dale." She closed her eyes. "Ravish me with information about Bradley Wiggins. Fascinate me."

Dale smiled down at his girlfriend- it still seemed strange to call her that. He'd penalty chosen a weird one- that was for sure. But he couldn't help himself- like everything else when it came to El. He checked that no one was behind them, and began to read.

He was halfway into Bradley's account of Tour De France before El interrupted.

"Did you ask your therapist about being able to cycle?" She sat up and looked at him.

Dale started at his magazine- at Bradley Wiggins, caught in a snapshot of winning the Tour De France. He looked tired, weak, hungry and very muddy, but on his face was a look of victory and accomplishment. As well as a massive smile, of course. It must have been one of the greatest moments of that man's life- but it was one that Dale would never be allowed to have, no matter how hard he wanted it.

Dale nodded. "I did- he said no. Something about a trigger."

El looked nearly as upset as Dale thought he probably looked. "I'm sorry Dale, I know how much you want to ride. But if the doctor thinks-"

"But it isn't fair! That therapist knows nothing- nothing. Yeah, okay, he knows about feelings and buzz words, but he knows nothing about me. Nothing about my triggers. All I want is to go for a bike ride, it doesn't mean that I'm going to start starving myself!" Dale steamed.

"Have you told him that?"

Dale let out a chuckle. "'Course I have. But he doesn't listen. He's a nice enough bloke, but he shuts me down."

"I thought that was the one thing that therapists weren't supposed to do."

"Same here." Dale told her.

El looked at her boyfriend. He looked angry- probably at the whole world, knowing Dale- and was clutching the sides of his magazine so hard that his knuckles had turned white she looked at him. Now, she wasn't an expert, but she prided herself with being intelligent and thought she had some experience with eating disorders, what with her mother having one.

Dale looked healthy, and quite toned, she'd noticed. Since she'd known him, which was around the time that he'd been starving himself, El had learned, he'd gained weight and muscle. Now, he looked healthy and strong. El knew an eating disorder was in Dale's brain, but he was getting help with that and seemed to be on an even keel.

So she decided right there and then that she'd help Dale cycle again- to even get on the team if she got really luck. El knew what club it was- a real fancy, international connections- rich one that was near her street.

Soon, El would go and talk to the manager and see about helping Dale to get back on his seat. El had the upmost of faith in him, so did Dale about himself- all she had to do was convince the manger. How hard could it be?

She wanted to help Dale, and if he wanted to cycle and thought he was ready, help him she would.

Now, though, she changed the subject.

"How long have we got until till the film?" She asked, taking his hand again. Dale gripped it tight- it was almost as if he was scared to let it go. El didn't mind.


	12. Chapter 12

El didn't think the clubhouse was much to look at. Although it was a smart building, it was brutalist. (Part of her hated herself for knowing what type of building a building was- most people didn't care, did they?) So it was obviously awful. It was high but squat looking, kind of grey and looked nothing special.

And yet, Dale had almost killed himself to get there. The inside must be good, thought El. From her distance from outside the building, about a hundred metres away, she could see a wide space of fields that fell out behind the building. There was also a wide circle of road- that was probably there so that riders could practise on pedestrian roads without the fear of being run over by inconsiderate drivers. The rest, it seemed, must have been inside.

El hadn't told anyone she was coming here. That sounded like something that would get you murdered and no one would know where to look for your body, but it was the truth. Her parents had been going out anyway, (without dragging her along for one- small mercies) so there had been no need to tell them- plus, how would that have gone? El could imagine it in her mind: "Hey mum, hello Dad, I'm going out today to try and get a place on a cycling team for my recovering anorexic boyfriend so he has something to work towards. Do you want me to get anything from Waitrose? Just NO.

She couldn't have told Dale, because he'd or tried to stop her or thought that he was being some burden to her; that was the furthest thing from the truth. El liked Dale. Perhaps not as much as he liked her, seeming that she had to think so much to decide whether or not to go out with him, but he was growing on her every day. If she could do anything to help him, she would. Also, he defiantly wasn't a burden- Dale gave El something in her life that wasn't just science and maths.

El loved science and maths, but she needed something more- something that she hadn't had since…

El pushed that thought out of her mind. She couldn't think about him- not toady of all days, when she needed to be at her best.

She took a deep breath and held it, before letting it out slowly. She clenched her fists and then unclenched them. El made her way to the brutalist building, which had better be better inside, help her god.

2

The inside was much better than the outside, it had to be said. For one, it was much more modern. The walls were white washed, there was a minimalist theme and the only thing that lined the walls were a few pictures here and there. El thought they must be famous cyclists: she recognised some from the magazine Dale read. She half expected Bradley Wiggin's photograph to be hung somewhere.

As she looked around the place, she walked towards the reception desk that was on the other side of the room. A receptionist sat there and was intently clicking at something on her computer. However, she looked up as El approached. She must have heard her footsteps- they were load because El was the only person in the room that was walking. Apart from her and the receptionist, the room was deserted.

"Can I help you?" The woman asked.

"Yes, actually, I believe you can." El stood to her highest height and leaned over the desk, to make the closest contact with the woman. She had done this a few times before- hell, she'd been taught how to get her own way since birth: Avington's were leaders, not followers. El cleared her throat and spoke with as thick an Oxford accent she had- it seemed to make her seem professional.

"I would like it if I could speak to someone in charge."

The woman looked at El, seemingly incredulous. She looked at El up and down, with her yellow coat and youthful skin that told her that El was no older than a schoolgirl, be that one that only had a year or two to go- but a schoolgirl no le.

"May I ask you are?"

El smiled; she had been expecting the woman to ask that. It was time to play her secret weapon, then- the thing that made getting your way so easy.

"I am Eloise Avington- I am the daughter of the businessman Herold Avington- he owns the IT Company nearby called AvingtonSolutions. I assume you've heard of him?"

That made the woman shoot up. Obviously she'd heard of El father and the company he owned if she didn't live under a rock. El hated using her family name to get to places- she hated the way that people bended over backwards just because there was a chance she might tell her father. As if- her father never talked about his work with her. Not that El would want him to.

She was glad that Dale and her friends hadn't seemed to twig who her father was yet. It would be awful to think that people were being nice to her just because of her family- she'd always be paranoid that people only wanted her around because of who her relations were. It was bad enough when some of her teachers found out.

It hadn't happened as much in Oxford- at her grammar school, most people had successful parents or families, but in Greenock her name was earning her more looks that she would like. The receptionist was just an example. The weird thing was, though, it hadn't happened at all at Waterloo Road. Havalock, yes. Waterloo Road? No.

"Oh, yes Miss! Of course. Wait there just one moment, I'll just call the manager- he'll talk to you."

"Much appreciated." El smiled.

The receptionist nodded and picked up the phone on her desk, her perfectly manicured nails clinking against the plastic. El waited.

"Yes. Yes, sir, I understand that. It's Eloise Avington, daughter or that IT company owner. Yes, she's waiting right in front of me. Yes. Okay." Finally, after a good few minutes, the woman got off the phone.

El waited with baited breath. If the manager didn't at least see her then her hopes for Dale lay in tatters, along with his dreams.

"Okay," the receptionist said. "Colin's in a meeting, but he'll of finished in there in half an hour."

"Great." El replied. She was relived- now all she had to do was convince the man. She'd try to plan out what she's say whilst she was waiting.

"There's a seat over there," the receptionist pointed to an uncomfortable, fairly modern looking thing that was made of plastic and looked like it was designed to be a torture instrument rather than giving your bottom comfort. "And I can bring you a drink, if you'd like. We have juice: apple and orange," she counted the drinks on her fingers. "Coffee, tea, smoothies-"

"Tea, thanks." El interrupted, worried that the woman might become stuck like a broken record listing drinks. "One sugar, please." The woman nodded and walked off, her heels tapping on the floor. El walked over to the seat, sat down and decided that the seat felt as uncomfortable as it looked.

When the woman came back, El started to plan what she'd say to the manager, with sips of tea in-between. She'd defiantly have to play up her name; the receptionist had told the manager who she was and it was probably the only reason why he'd allowed her to see him. To impress a manager of one of the best cycling clubs in the country meant that she'd have to as professional as possible.

Inside El's head, a plan started to form.

El was the latest in generations of Avington's before her. They were all successful in one way or another- the pressure of doing well and being successful also grew with every generation. El's father has set up an IT company which grossed a few million every year, whilst his father before him had added to the family's bank balance by investing in computers just before they boomed, making himself a tidy profit. Not all Avington's had been business minded; some had been thinkers, just like El was. One of her relations, an uncle, had recently received a CBE from the queen for his work on stem cells. Apparently he was using the research for work on cancer treatments. Even if they hadn't been thinkers, Avington's had managed to marry into other successful families to keep their reputation strong- keeping the name all the while.

Sometimes it took El's breath away how much she had to live up to. She tapped her foot against the floor in agitation. Even some of her older cusions were doing better that her: one had already set up his own business in prosetics- new ones that worked with the injured genetics. Apparently it was a booming business.

Long after she'd finished her cup of tea, the door to the manager's office opened. People, mostly men, flooded out of the room, all of them dressed in business attire. El realised that these people must have been the people that the manager was a meeting with. Soon after that, the phone rang at the receptionist's desk. She picked it up, listened, put it down and told El that she could go in now.

El stood up on shaky feet. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, straightened her clothing (she was wearing a smart blue shirt with black jeans in an attempt to appear even just a tad professional whilst also not arousing suspicion in her parents. It wasn't every day that people left the house in business clothing on their weekends) and stood up straight. She then walked into the room, trying to look professional.

The office was the opposite of the outside, just like the lobby had been. It was modern, with metal, glass and minimalist furnishing taking the main stage in the room. There was a glass desk that was the most cluttered thing in the room, holding an AppleMac, a few pens and pencils, a binder and few photographs around the edges. It was fair to say that the manager did not like clutter.

The manager walked up to El as she entered the room.

"Miss Avington," he said, shaking her hand. El hoped she avoided a 'dead fish handshake.' "It's a pleasure. How is your father doing? I read in the local newspaper that his company is making an exordinate amount of money."

El opened her mouth to speak, before she was interrupted.

"Sorry, that was rude. Of course you don't know the accounts of your family's business."

"No." El replied. "Sir, I need to get straight to the point."

"Please, call me Colin." He mentioned for her to sit down on a seat opposite him. Yes, I would advise you to get straight to the point. Not only am I wondering what was so important that you could not get an appointment for, I have another meeting in twenty minutes."

El nodded. "Sir, I would like enquire about you taking on another person for your club's cycling team."

The manager pursed his lips and sat down.

"If that's all that you came to ask me about, I'm sorry, but it was a wasted journey. We're already at full capacity with our cycling team."

El lent forward. "I know, but sir-"

"I'm sorry, Miss-"The manager said, pointing towards the door.

"You already know him!" El shouted out, losing him her cool for a moment, but her opportunity was slipping away.

"Whatever do you mean?" The manager asked.

El took a deep breath. "His name is Dale Jackson, sir. To be on this team is what he wants most in the world. He's a great cyclist, and was training with a professional coach until very recently. In the area where he lived before moving to Greenock he was on the county team with the potential to go onto the Olympics in Rio. Your club even gave him a bike for his trail." She said, rattling off some of the speech she'd made in her head whilst waiting to go in, piecing together some of the information Dale had told her over the time that she had known him.

The manager ingested the large amount of information, thinking it over. Finally he said: "Dale Jackson, you say? Wasn't the one that had to forfeit his place on the team due to an eating disorder?"

El swallowed. The manager would have had to have known eventually, but she wasn't expecting it to be the one and only piece of information he seemingly knew about Dale. "Yes, Dale is battling with an eating disorder, but he's making great progress and he's ready to bike again. All he needs is permission from his therapists."

"If you don't mind, Eloise, how do you know all of this about Dale?"

"Not at all-I'm his girlfriend, sir."

"His girlfriend! Well, that explains why you're fighting so hard for him. Love's young dream, eh?"

He stared at her.

"I- I suppose."

"Now, Eloise, don't you think it's a bit naive to come and ask me for a place on the team for a person that isn't even here, has previous mental difficulties and cannot even bike without the permission of his therapists- something he hasn't even gotten yet?"

El realised that this was her last chance to convince the manager, otherwise he would slip away. So she gave it her all.

"Perhaps, but I have belief that Dale will get better, as he's currently doing." She paused. "And he will get permission from his therapists. Dale has the talent to make it onto the team that I'm sure of, as he won a place last time. He's a hard worker and will push himself to be the best that he can be- something that's very important for an athlete, is it not?"

"It is."

"And, sir, between you and me, giving a boy with anorexia a second change would make very good PR for your club, especially in the newspapers. You might even make it on the TV. More PR will mean more coverage, meaning more sponsors and donations for your club. That's something I think you'll be very interested in."

The manager thought for a moment. El could basically see the cogs turning inside his head.

"Very well," he said. El smiled. "Dale's in luck. As it happens, one participant has dropped out of the club for personal reasons. I'm not saying I'm giving Dale a place in the team." El's face fell. "But I will give him another trial." He checked his wall calendar. "There's one in four weeks. Can Dale be ready by then?"

El nodded. "He can."

"I'll be fair. If Dale wins the trail, he can have a place on the team, if not, well, I'm sorry Miss Avington, but it's not really my problem."

El sensed the conversation was coming to the end so she stood up. "Thank you," she said, shaking the manager's hand. "Dale will be over the moon when I tell him, he really will. You don't know what this'll mean to him."

"I'm glad I could help," the manager said as El made it to the door. "And miss Avington?"

"Yes?"

"Tell your father how our club is helping your boyfriend, will you?"

"Of course," El said, as she left the room. She wouldn't tell her father of course, as he didn't even know that El had a boyfriend, but she appreciated the help all the same. Dale would be so pleased when she told him- she couldn't wait to see his face. It would give something to work towards; being on the club would give Dale goals and opportunities outside the world of eating disorders.

Maybe she was naive to think that getting in the club would help with him- El was terrified that it would lead him down the same damaging road that it had before. But she'd try to help him, like she did before and make sure that he had someone to balance the pressure of the cycling club on.

She didn't have anyone to share the pressure with, not now, but that didn't matter.

El hurried out of the building, eager to see Dale and tell him the good news. No, not good news. Brilliant news.


End file.
